**IMISCOE Research Series**

# Marieke Slootman

# Ethnic Identity, Social Mobility and the Role of Soulmates

IMISCOE Research Series

This series is the official book series of IMISCOE, the largest network of excellence on migration and diversity in the world. It comprises publications which present empirical and theoretical research on different aspects of international migration. The authors are all specialists, and the publications a rich source of information for researchers and others involved in international migration studies. The series is published under the editorial supervision of the IMISCOE Editorial Committee which includes leading scholars from all over Europe. The series, which contains more than eighty titles already, is internationally peer reviewed which ensures that the book published in this series continue to present excellent academic standards and scholarly quality. Most of the books are available open access.

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Marieke Slootman

## Ethnic Identity, Social Mobility and the Role of Soulmates

Marieke Slootman Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam Amsterdam, The Netherlands

This research received financial support from the Amsterdam Institute for Social Science Research (AISSR, University of Amsterdam), Platform 31, the municipalities of Almere, Amsterdam, Delft, Nijmegen, The Hague, and Utrecht, and housing association Mitros.

ISSN 2364-4087 ISSN 2364-4095 (electronic) IMISCOE Research Series ISBN 978-3-319-99595-3 ISBN 978-3-319-99596-0 (eBook) https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-319-99596-0

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018952606

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2018. This book is an open access publication.

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For Carla and Arnold

## Acknowledgements

You switched from Physics to Gender Studies?

My background in Physics and my career start as a Management Consultant often raises eyebrows. The knowledge that one of my early (and strong!) drivers was to prove myself as a woman often softens this surprise and explains the switch to Gender Studies. It then comes as no surprise that I am driven by the question of what it is like to belong to a minority group. (Or, as I would phrase it after writing an academic book: I am intrigued by what it is like to be seen as a member of what is considered to be a minority category.)

Remarkably enough, this interest was not inspired primarily by my ethnic background. It was not until I learned about the formal Dutch categorization system in one of my Social Science classes that I realized I was formally an 'allochtoon' (foreigner). Until then, the fact that my father and grandparents were from Indonesia did not mean more to me than my grandma's lovely spring rolls and the water bottle typically found next to the toilet. It still doesn't. I suppose that something as 'superficial' as my Dutch name has been an important reason that I never questioned whether I belonged in the Netherlands. This contrasts with many others, whose ethnic backgrounds have a large impact on their sense of belonging. I find this an intriguing observation.

My personal interest in minority identity resulted in this book, which is based on my dissertation, Soulmates. Reinvention of ethnic identification among higher educated second generation Moroccan and Turkish Dutch, defended on December 5, 2014, (cum laude) at the University of Amsterdam (UvA). The dissertation was judged as the best Dutch Sociological dissertation 2013/2014 by the Dutch Sociological Association (NSV). I greatly enjoyed the research process and feel privileged for having had the opportunity to conduct this study and have it published as a book. I am not only grateful to the University of Amsterdam (AISSR and IMES), but also to the partners who contributed to the funding of the research project (Platform31, the municipalities of Almere, Amsterdam, Delft, Nijmegen, The Hague, and Utrecht, and housing association Mitros). I am happy that Jean Tillie asked me for a research project in 2005 at IMES, which formed the start of my research career. I loved working with him, as well as with Frank Buijs, who sadly passed away in 2007 in the midst of one of our projects.

The academic environment was stimulating and thought-provoking thanks to my engagement with numerous colleagues at international conferences and workshops, through reviews of papers, and in settings closer by home: among my colleagues at IMES and in the UvA Sociology Department, and in the frequent meetings with other Ph.D. students. Maria Bruquetas, Danielle Chevalier, Emma Folmer, Iris Hagemans, Anja van Heelsum, Machteld de Jong, Miriam van de Kamp, Elif Keskiner, Manolis Pratsinakis, Annika Smits, Yannis Tzaninis, Floris Vermeulen, Ismintha Waldring, and all colleagues not mentioned here by name, I want you to know how great it is when people take the effort to carefully read and comment on your (often very unfinished) work, and how much I enjoyed our discussions on topics we are all passionate about. In fact, these discussions and your feedback were crucial in distilling and sharpening the argument laid out in this book. Also, thanks for making the research job (even) more fun. Froukje Demant, Nina ter Laan, and Döske van der Wilk have been very special office roomies. Your day-to-day friendships, in which we shared much of our personal and academic lives, have been very precious to me. Girls, you were and are real soulmates.

I would like to extend special thanks to the editors and anonymous reviewers of Springer and IMISCOE for their engaged support and constructive comments during the publication process, and to Prof. Anna Triandafyllidou in particular. I am also thankful to my current colleagues in the Sociology Department at the Vrije Universiteit, especially Prof. Halleh Ghorashi, for the warm and welcoming atmosphere. Without my dissertation supervisors—Profs. Maurice Crul, Jan Willem Duyvendak, and Jan Rath—this book would not have been the same. I have known from the start how lucky I was to have such involved and constructive supervisors. Knowing that everything I wrote was read with close attention and a critical view has been extremely motivating. Our meetings were sources of fresh ideas and new energy, and your input helped me immensely to develop and sharpen not only my specific arguments, but also my broader thinking. Thank you!

Throughout my journey, I had lively people at my side. Working on a years-long project, which only takes shape verrrry slowly, can be daunting. How special it is to be with someone who is at times more enthusiastic about your research project than you are yourself: Jan-Joost, thank you for being that person at my side. Dear Lina and Timo, I am proud of you both and already enjoy your curiosity and your independent minds.

Mum and dad, I am very thankful to both of you, not only for the countless times that I dropped Lina and Timo in your welcoming arms and immediately left for the library to work, but particularly for encouraging me to follow my heart.

Last but not least, I thank the participants of my study, who all left their personal marks on this book. Thank you for your time and for trusting me with your personal stories. Without you, this book would not have been there at all. I realize it can be a tough read, but I hope you nevertheless enjoy the reading.

Lastly, I want to encourage you, the reader, to reflect on the story I present in this book, based on your own experiences. As academic thinking—like all our thinking—is nothing more than 'work in progress', I always long to further develop my thoughts. What parts of the story resonate with your experiences? What parts do not, and why? I warmly invite you to send me your reflections.

## Contents



## List of Figures


## List of Tables


## **Chapter 1 Ethnic-Minority Climbers. Winning the Golden Calf**

*Why this study? What is in the book?*

∗∗∗

When actor Nasrdin Dchar was awarded the Golden Calf for Best Actor in 2011, the Dutch equivalent of the Oscars, in his short, improvised, emotion-laden speech he exclaimed:

I am Dutch! I am proud, with Moroccan blood! I am a Muslim! And I won a freaking Golden Calf!!1

∗∗∗

This speech by Dchar, a child of Moroccan immigrants, received much attention in the Netherlands. Many people held the opinion that with the emphasis on both his Dutchness and his Moroccan roots, he finally said what needed to be said.

<sup>1</sup> In Dutch he said: '*Ik ben een Nederlander. Ik ben heel trots*—*met Marokkaans bloed. Ik ben een moslim. En ik heb een f\*cking Gouden Kalf in mijn hand*'. See: www.youtube.com/watch?v=iYkS PiYbKg8. Accessed 17 October 2013.

Others attacked him for his exclamation, as they probably saw his multiple identification as an undesirable expression of distancing from Dutch society or 'incomplete integration'.2

His unequivocal statement is remarkable. Why would he emphasize his Dutchness while being awarded a prestigious Dutch award, and why would he highlight his ethnic background and religious affiliation at this particular moment?

Dchar stands as an example of a broader social phenomenon: children of lowerclass immigrants who themselves climb into the middle class and articulate their minority identities. Why do these 'minority climbers' do so and what do these ethnic identities mean to them? This is a particularly relevant question because ethnicminority articulations are not well-understood and are often regarded with distrust by the society at-large. This is the case in many countries, including the Netherlands.

In this study I explore the ethnic identification of several second-generation Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch citizens with high education levels. I focus on practices of self-identification and study how they articulate their identity. I explore when and why they do so, what their ethnic identity means to them, and how this evolves over time.

This mixed-methods study is 'phenomenological'. It does not aim to describe any objective reality, but describes how a social phenomenon is experienced by a specific group of individuals. The study forms an example of how to disentangle abstract processes of 'identification'—in particular 'ethnic identification'—and how to research what ethnicity means to individuals while avoiding 'groupism' or essentialism.

#### **1.1 Identification of Minority Climbers**

There is an urgent need to better understand the identifications of socially mobile citizens with an immigrant background. Children of the post-war immigrants are now adults and are increasingly finding their way into the middle classes, both in Europe (Crul and Schneider 2009) and in the United States (Kasinitz et al. 2002), and some of them articulate their ethnic-minority identities. At the same time, the theme of ethnic identification has become increasingly topical in discussions about immigrant integration. Whereas discussions on integration previously centered primarily on socioeconomic aspects, the focus has shifted to sociocultural identification. This is the case in countries around the world; the Netherlands forms no exception, as I will explain later. In fact, the case of the Netherlands is specifically interesting because of the sharp about-face from being a country renowned for its so-called tolerance

<sup>2</sup>Dchar was proclaimed a hero, and many were deeply moved by his words and applauded his criticism of exclusionary discourses (see for example: the broadcast of 'Pauw and Witteman' of Oct 3, 2011 (www.youtube.com/watch?v=UHTaZUVggTE); De Volkskrant 2011; Algemeen Dagblad 2011). He was regarded 'the first' to claim the right to be Dutch, Moroccan, and Muslim at the same time (Volkskrant Magazine 2011). In later interviews, Dchar referred to the negative reactions he received (see for example Volkskrant Magazine 2011 and the broadcast of De Jong's interview with Dchar on: www.uitzendinggemist.nl/afleveringen/1215853. Accessed 10 August 2013.

of ethnic diversity to a country where an Islamophobic political party (the Freedom Party, or PVV, headed by Geert Wilders) has been very successful and where essentialist language has come to dominate the political realm. Children of immigrants and even their grandchildren are often assessed based on their identification, which is regarded as an expression of loyalty, or lack thereof, to the Netherlands. Individuals with higher education levels are by no means exempted from any of these judgments and criticisms. How do higher-educated immigrants maneuver within this landscape? How do these criticisms and judgments, under which entire ethnic categories are lumped together, affect them? With my study I hope to contribute to an increased understanding of the experiences of the (adult) children of immigrants and thus to an increased nuance in debates on integration and diversity.

Much of the academic literature on the ethnic identity of citizens with migration backgrounds can be found in the field of 'immigrant integration'. Just like the dominant discourses in society, this literature considers ethnic-minority identification in connection with trajectories of 'integration'. Ethnic-minority identification is seen as either an indication of 'incomplete integration' or as a resource for socioeconomic advancement. As I will further explain in Chap. 2, this framing—combined with the focus on groups and societal structures rather than individual experiences—limits the integration perspective's value for understanding the meaning of ethnicity and ethnic identification for minority climbers. Instead, I build upon another body of literature that focuses on 'ethnic options' and acknowledges the individual, contextual, and variable character of ethnic identities. Bourdieu provides us with concepts, such as habitus and field, that help understand and describe the self-identifications of social climbers.

The study focuses on Dchar's peers, that is, second-generation Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch individuals who have achieved positions that are generally regarded as 'integrated'. (I use quotation marks here because 'integration' is often used in a neutral, descriptive way while it implicitly carries normative and judgmental connotations and suggests that complete assimilation is desirable). I focus on minority climbers with high education levels and commensurate jobs, persons considered 'well-integrated' in structural terms. Yet they are unabatedly targeted by the demanding integration discourse and encounter incomprehension when, 'despite' their upward mobility, they 'still' stress their ethnic background. Please note that with this choice I do *not* suggest that those who fall outside this selection are therefore not 'well-integrated'. Nor do I suggest that in my view immigrants and their children *should* show certain levels of socioeconomic advancement and sociocultural adaptation.

My findings are largely based on in-depth interviews that I conducted with 14 university-educated Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch. To be precise: with Dutch men and women who are over 30 years old, hold professional positions (such as consultants, engineers, entrepreneurs), and who were either born in the Netherlands (shortly after their parents arrived here to work as 'guest workers' in low wage jobs) or arrived here with their parents at a very young age. I refer to them as 'secondgeneration Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch', even though I consider this label to overly accentuate or even misrepresent their immigrant situation since as *children of* immigrants, most of them are not immigrants themselves. The study has a mixedmethods research design. The qualitative interviews are supplemented by quantitative survey data.

At the start of the project, I expected the social climbers to be an 'extreme case' (Bryman 2008). I assumed that if these social climbers—despite their relatively 'assimilated' socioeconomic position—experienced struggles, these would automatically apply to their lower-educated coethnics. However, the mechanisms revealed in this book suggest that the climbers form a 'unique case'. Their experiences are shaped by their trajectories of social mobility in distinct ways.

As an overview of what will unfold in the book, in the next section I introduce four personal stories inspired by the interviews (Sect.1.2). I conclude the chapter with an outline of the book (Sect.1.3).

#### **1.2 Four Voices**

The experiences of the second-generation migrants under study vary broadly, yet also show similarities. To offer a feel for both the broader trends as well as the personal variations, I introduce four personal stories based on the interviews. These brief sketches of four personal lives focus especially on the roles of ethnic background and ethnic identifications. They also focus on social relations, particularly those shaped by ethnic background or, in turn, that impact ethnic identifications. Changes have been made for reasons of protecting anonymity.

The four stories are not 'ideal types'. Thinking in ideal types would simplify reality too much, smoothing out the complexities and ambiguities that form part of the personal accounts in the interviews. The stories are meant to set the scene and give a sense of the study's relevance. They hint at the directions that will unfold in subsequent chapters and illustrate the richness in experiences and accounts.

#### *Said: 'Whenever I can, I now tell them I am Moroccan'*

Said grew up in a village in the province of Noord-Holland as the only child of Moroccan immigrants. As his is the only immigrant family there, his friends in primary school are all ethnic Dutch. Said does not grow up isolated, but he is aware of his disadvantage in relation to his friends, even though they all come from lowerclass backgrounds. He feels his friends learn a lot more at home than he does. He often does not understand complicated words. Sometimes, his parents do now allow him to play at his friends' homes. In hindsight, he reflects on his childhood as the period when he discovered he was actually different in a negative way. These feelings also had some positive consequences, as they resulted in an extra drive to prove himself.

His time at secondary school (*VWO,* preparatory tertiary education), another 'white' environment, is a great period. Said is eager to learn and to close the gap with his peers. A low mark at school for a Dutch language test greatly upsets him, and from that moment on, he only receives high marks for Dutch. His friends, with their ambitions, are his role models. Hanging out with them, at their homes, increases his cultural baggage. This period is characterized by sensing and seizing opportunities, and by a growing awareness of his intellectual capabilities and confidence that he is on the right track. His ethnic background feels entirely irrelevant. When his ethnic background prompts the hairdresser to assume that he attends lower vocational education, he takes pride in disproving her stereotypical assumptions. He remembers this period as one characterized by increasing self-confidence and a decreased emphasis on his ethnic identity, a time when he learned 'not to negative relate to his own identity'.

Entering university, he is amazed to see many other Moroccan Dutch students with a high education level. He always assumed he was the only one, but he suddenly meets companions who share his experiences. It feels like a revelation to meet with people who appear to be on the same wavelength, to experience such a level of mutual understanding. They have all felt like they were exceptions. They start a Moroccan-Dutch student association. Suddenly, most of his interactions are with other Moroccan Dutch; or, maybe about 60% of his interactions, as he also attends a regular Dutch fraternity. Looking back on it, this was a really fantastic period.

Said describes himself as 'engaged'. He is ambitious and is involved in many societal initiatives whose aim is to bring groups together. This is largely in response to the widespread negativity towards the Moroccan community. But he also reaches out in his personal environment. He supports nieces and nephews in their school choices and stimulates them to aim high. He stresses that nowadays, in his professional environment, which is primarily 'white' and male, he does not feel different from his colleagues. Whenever he can, he mentions his ethnic background or that he is Muslim. He is proud that he is both successful and Moroccan and Muslim. In consciously emphasizing all of these aspects, he wants to show that these aspects can go together very well, contrary to general expectations. He wants to exemplify how the stereotypical images are too simplistic and that one can be religious, visit Morocco, and be oriented towards Dutch society at the same time. Sometimes, he feels singled out. He finds it annoying when asked to give his opinion on the 9/11 attacks 'as a Muslim' or when someone makes silly Moroccan jokes. He even feels somewhat awkward when someone declared him a success story because of his ethnic background: after all, what is the relevance of culture here?!

#### *Berkant: 'Now, I feel happy having two sides'*

Growing up in a medium-sized town in the province of Utrecht is not always easy. Berkant, like his siblings, experiences exclusion since his early youth because of his Turkish background. He feels alienated because he enters primary school unable to speak Dutch and is bullied by white kids in the neighborhood. Thankfully he is in school with other 'Turkish' pupils and the bullying makes him draw closer to his Turkish friends. When at *VWO* (tertiary preparatory education), he is the only 'Turkish' student in his secondary school; he feels tremendously isolated. He was never limited in his personal freedom by his parents, who encouraged him to take part in all social activities. Nevertheless, he feels insecure because everything feels unfamiliar. The celebration of birthday parties, school outings; he is in a continuous state of astonishment and feels a dire need to prove himself. His parents continue supporting his educational ambitions and provide financial support despite not having much money to spend.

When he enters university, it is a real peak experience. He meets other students who have a Turkish background, and this opens up an entirely new world to him. He feels an urgent need to share experiences with people who know what he is talking about. They found a Turkish student association and he later joins a Turkish professional organization. Having stuff to share—similar experiences and things to talk about—creates feelings of connection. This is why he feels more at home in the middle-class (primarily) 'white' neighborhood where he lives with his wife and children, than in the 'black' lower-class neighborhood where they lived before. However, his friends are still mostly Turkish. They have higher education levels and are mostly from relatively liberal, less orthodox backgrounds. Aside from his job, he actively participates in organizations aimed at supporting and stimulating ethnicminority children. He is conscious about the importance of coethnic role models and about the lack thereof, and feels the need to 'give back' to the coethnic community so that others do not have similar experiences.

After university graduation, he decides to move to Turkey for a while. Like many other Turkish children, he has been raised with the prospect of finally returning to Turkey. Returning to Turkey was the dream of his parents, and for him Turkey had become Utopia, its mythical appeal confirmed during holidays. As he grew older, he began to realize that they would not return and that his future was in the Netherlands. Slowly, he became more positive and more oriented towards the Netherlands and his aversion towards everything Dutch (instigated by his childhood bullying) gradually faded. Nevertheless, at the time, he really looks forward to going to Turkey. The stay has a sobering effect. Turkey appears to be a normal country, with normal troubles. Despite his love of Turkish music and the Turkish football team, he realizes how strongly he has been shaped by growing up in the Netherlands. This makes him slowly accept and value his Dutchness, alongside his Turkishness, creating some sort of 'balance'. Knowing that you can have two sides, knowing that you do not have to choose and disregard one but that you can rely on *both*, gives him a feeling of peacefulness. Knowing that you can have two countries where you feel at home makes him feel blessed. Upon his return to the Netherlands, he feels less bothered by the negative integration discourse and by how people talk about immigrants on television because of his increased confidence in the fact that he (also) belongs here.

Berkant highly values his relationship with his parents. The fact that he has outgrown their Turkish traditional mentality or social class does not prevent him from upholding the social ties. He considers nurturing the bonds to be *his* responsibility as he is able to understand them and their world, whereas his parents are much less able to understand him and his world; for example, the frequency of his holidays, the price of his clothes, decisions with regard to childcare, and, in particular, regarding religious views. In order to protect their feelings, he does not confront them with things they will never understand. To Berkant, it's nothing special that his parents to fail to understand his life world. He grew up in an immigrant context and has always supported his parents in finding their way in Dutch society since his early childhood.

#### *Esra: 'I would say I am 60% Dutch and 40% Turkish'*

Esra grows up in a town in Twente. Her father works hard and hardly spends time at home. He stresses the importance of education and envisions Esra becoming a doctor. As she needs to go to university, her father urges her to follow the *MAVO* (lower secondary general education; which is way below the preparatory level for university). Thankfully, her teacher has better knowledge of the system and, recognizing her potential, sends her to *VWO* (preparatory tertiary education). Her parents' support is limited to this emphasis on education and to freeing her from household tasks when she needs to do homework. Neither their abilities nor their interest stretch beyond this, which is partly because her father works hard and is largely absent from home. Esra's parents are Kurdish, but her parents downplay the Kurdish identity in favor of the Turkish identity for reasons of security.

Esra grows up with very limited personal freedom. She is not allowed to participate in social activities outside school and does not have many friends. With her parents, she regularly visits Turkish (and later Kurdish) families with children, but these are not real friends. Sometimes she is called names by children in the neighborhood, but she does not register this as active exclusion. Esra does not feel really 'different'; it is more that she feels severely isolated and has the pressing feeling that she is missing out on important things. She longs to get to know the world outside of her narrow and oppressive family world.

In secondary school, too, she is not allowed to join in social activities and school outings. The one time she stands up to her parents and gets them to allow her to join in a one-day school outing to the museum, on that morning, her mother does not wake her up in time to go, making her miss out on yet another event. Even at university, she is only allowed to travel back and forth to the campus each day and is not allowed to go on trips with friends. In comparison to other Turkish fathers, however, her father is relatively permissive. One time he even challenges other fathers who do not allow their daughters to follow higher educational tracks because there are boys at university. Esra does not often choose open confrontation. Many requests will never be granted, so she doesn't even ask permission; some of these things, like going to the cinema, she does secretly during school hours. There is continuous negotiation. She continually balances her demands: what do I ask for and what do I not? Every time she wants to do something, she must offer extensive explanation and engage in intense efforts to persuade her parents. But Esra knows what she wants, is well prepared and determined, and manages to get permission to pursue the studies she wants and marry the husband of her choice. Reflecting on these experiences in the interview, she describes her parents' enormous transformation over time. Her youngest siblings grew up 'with totally different parents', with 'Dutch' parents; they were allowed to participate in school trips—in anything! Her youngest sister even has a Dutch boyfriend, which was entirely unthinkable fifteen years ago.

Despite being discouraged from doing so by her parents (for reasons of her own protection), Esra becomes very interested in Turkish-Kurdish politics and is drawn to other people with a Turkish background. However, depending on the political situation of the moment, she sometimes also feels a gap. Nevertheless, the widest gap she feels is not due to the current political situation but to the conservative views that many Turkish and Kurdish people hold. She prefers to mix with people who are Alevi (one of the Islamic belief systems, which has a relatively modern segment). She also participates in the Turkish student association at her university, where she enjoys meeting a range of Turkish people who all have high education levels, including like-minded students who are relatively modern as well. This too is a place where she can share and develop her interest in Turkey. As an adult, living in a white village, she now has many local Dutch friends, who all have higher education (or are entrepreneurs). Even though her immediate environment is primarily Dutch, she also enjoys her participation in a Turkish professional association.

As Esra sees it, the fact that she cherishes and cultivates her Kurdish side is also related to her place in the Netherlands. The experiences of her youth prove that even though you do your utmost best, there is still ethnic name-calling. It also hurts when a nice man backs away when he learns you are not Italian but Turkish, and when your (non-religious) son is called a Muslim terrorist. But more subtle incidents also make clear that she will always be seen as different; for example when people specifically address *her* about the 9/11 attacks. Why her?? That does not mean, however, that she belongs in Turkey instead of the Netherlands. Esra feels very Dutch when she is in Turkey, but she does not feel very Turkish when she is here. So, basically, she feels more Dutch than Turkish. Let's say, with regard to attitudes and opinions, she feels 60% Dutch and 40% Turkish—or Kurdish, for that matter. Yes, her roots are Kurdish, but she does not often use the Kurdish label because it has no place in Dutch discourse, as, unlike Turkey, it is not a country. With her immigrant background, she has the best of multiple worlds, as she combines the best of her Turkish/Kurdish side, and the best of her Dutch side.

#### *Karim: 'Again, they want me to come from Morocco'*

Growing up in this working class village in the province of North Brabant, Karim does not really have friendships with children other than his siblings. Like most of his siblings, he feels isolated. In hindsight, he does not attribute this to his Moroccan background, but to his introverted nature and constrained upbringing. After all, other kids with a Moroccan background who were more assertive were more popular.

Karim is not one of the cool guys and feels like an outsider. This feeling follows him into secondary school, where his graduation from *HAVO* (higher secondary general education) with honors marks a great moment. He feels exuberant, happy that he has proven himself to his parents and to the entire world. This is extra important to him because of his frustrations about the lack of school support because his teacher did not let him go straight to *VWO* (preparatory tertiary education) due to his ethnic background. The subsequent years at *VWO*, after finishing *HAVO*, are a slight improvement in social terms, as there is more room for a studious mentality and for his shyness. He loves reading, and Dutch and English literature offer a haven.

When he enters university, he feels totally disconnected from other students. He feels miserable and isolated. He is not familiar with habits like partying and clubbing and feels entirely estranged. He also experiences a huge gap between himself and other Moroccans; he does not feel 'Moroccan' and he is not into Morocco or any language other than Dutch. There is also little connection with the colleagues in the factory where he works during his holidays. Again, this does not seem related to his ethnic background, rather to a lack of common interests and commonalities. Karim does not share their love for cars and football, even if he tries, and they would not understand his passion for literature. From his parents' side, he not only feels pressure to succeed in educational terms, but—encouraged by the local Moroccan community at the mosque—they also pressure him to be a 'proper' Moroccan. They express disappointment because his clothes and hair do not match their expectations, he is not fluent in their language, and he does not pray or visit the mosque; in addition, he is not immediately considering marriage.

His life changes when he meets an active, sociable student of Moroccan descent, Kamal, with whom he really connects. Karim finally feels understood instead of judged. He feels valued and stimulated. Together, they have endless conversations, and Karim opens up. As a Moroccan with a higher education, Kamal recognizes Karim's struggles. He is familiar with the Moroccan community's stringent expectations: the demand to succeed yet at the same time be like them. Karim becomes a member of the newly-founded Moroccan student association, where he befriends people from immigrant backgrounds for the first time. He adopts the label 'foreigner' ('*allochtoon*') and, as an '*allochtoon*', he becomes a spokesperson. He reaches out to the university board and even to the mayor. He enjoys the status and the positive attention until he and Kamal realize that they have only become new stereotypes. They are still not real people but have grown into 'model Moroccans'. This makes them again distance themselves from the label 'foreigner'. Another sphere in which he feels at home in that period is the literature club in which he participates, along with other (ethnic-Dutch) students who share his passion for literature. He is cautious not to mix both spheres out of fear that he will place himself apart by stressing his ethnic side in the one context and his love for literature in the other.

He now describes himself as a critical Dutchman. Yes, he is also Moroccan, but much less so. Morocco is not his country; the Netherlands is. He does not feel at home in Morocco; he does not belong there. He grew up here, in the Netherlands, and all the reading has made him feel familiar with the Dutch heritage. His way of thinking, his mentality, is Dutch. He is relatively open-minded and not very dogmatic. The words in his head are Dutch. And while he does not celebrate Carnival, Christmas, or Queens Day, he is also not very attached to celebrating Ramadan. Yet it is as if society forces him to be Moroccan. Time and again people ask him where he is from, implying some place abroad. They like to emphasize his being different. They ask what he thinks about Moroccan criminals; as if he would be sympathetic towards them because he shares their ethnic background. On television it is the same story, where the media repeatedly speak about 'unadapted Moroccans' who supposedly do not fit in. The demand that people of Moroccan backgrounds adapt and 'civilize' are projected onto him by people who do not even know him. This pushes people away. It makes Karim feel 'in between'. It is as if he does not belong anywhere. It feels as if one side does not understand him whereas the other side does not *want* to understand him. One moment he longs to belong and the other he is more rebellious and tells himself he does not care. But he hates it when others label him as Moroccan. That makes him feel he is reduced to his ethnicity. He does not even know what 'being Moroccan' means! This equally annoys him when he visits the mosque (where he occasionally accompanies his wife): 'Moroccan' people also place him somewhere in Morocco. But he is NOT from there!

#### **1.3 In the Book**

The four personal stories suggest that there is not some static, uniform, and predictable ethnic identification, while also hinting at broader mechanisms. Positions and identifications appear to be influenced by social others in certain ways. These positions and identifications are affected by the process of social mobility and develop over time. These themes will be explored throughout the book. Although religion and gender are not main foci in this study, they are mentioned when they appear relevant to the main theme.

The next three chapters describe the background of the study. In Chap. 2, I present the theoretical and analytical framework. I briefly discuss the main models of 'integration', the idea of 'ethnic options', and Bourdieu's 'theory of practice'. Furthermore, I discuss two general, opposing scientific views on ethnicity and identification—an objectivist (essentialist) perspective and a constructivist perspective—and show the potentials and drawbacks of both positions for understanding people's lived experiences. This leads to the assemblage of an 'analytical toolkit'. Chap. 3 deals with the mixed methods research design of my study. It describes the two methodological approaches, and reflects on the combination of qualitative and quantitative data. Chap. 4 sketches the societal and historical landscape of the study. It describes recent developments in the Dutch debate on integration, as well as the immigrant background of second-generation Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch citizens and their current socioeconomic and sociocultural positions in Dutch society.

Chapters 5 through 7 form the empirical heart of the book. In Chap. 5, I explore the identifications of higher-educated second-generation Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch. I use both quantitative and qualitative data to analyze how strongly they identify with the ethnic and national labels, and what these identifications mean for them. I examine the relationship between their ethnic articulation and other practices that are considered 'ethnic'. The results of the quantitative analyses debunk the simplistic, essentialist idea that ethnic identity is an automatic reflection of a broader coherent sociocultural orientation. This raises questions that require an open, qualitative, interpretivist approach.

Chapter 6 focuses on the role of social context. Although, as Chap. 5 shows, the social climbers easily speak about their ethnic 'identity', Chap. 6 demonstrates that the articulation of identities is contextual and relational. The in-depth interviews demonstrate how the participants feel and position themselves in specific social situations; in relation to two different fields (coethnic settings and majority dominated settings) for two different life phases (childhood and current adulthood). Their stories show that they have various 'ethnic options' at their disposal and illustrate how their identifications are ways to negotiate belonging in various social settings, how they balance between autonomy and a need for belonging.

Chapter 7's theme is the temporal aspect of ethnic identification. The stories reveal that the development of an ethnic identity that fits their higher education level is not a straightforward matter. Coethnic, co-educated peers turn out to be crucial in this process. The 'soulmate spaces' that emerged illustrate the intersectional character of ethnicity and class. The chapter furthermore reflects on social bonds and the role of ethnicity.

The final chapter, Chap. 8, synthesizes and discusses the results. I reflect on the relevance of ethnicity, of the ethnic label, for minority climbers. What follows is a reflection on the relationship between identification and social mobility. The book concludes with a discussion of the analytical, practical, and methodological implications of this study.

#### **References**

Algemeen Dagblad (2011, October 4). Nasrin Dchar held na speech op Filmgala.


Volkskrant Magazine. (2011, December 24). Interview met Nasrdin Dchar—door Sara Berkeljon.

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## **Chapter 2 Studying Ethnic Identification. Tools and Theories**

*How can we understand and study ethnic identification?*

Ethnic minorities are often solely approached as newcomers who are in a process of integration into society. This is a limited perspective because individuals with ethnic-minority backgrounds are much more than 'newcomers'. Their experiences and identifications are much more than just elements of integration processes, and second and third generations are not even newcomers themselves. This means that the frame of 'integration' is too narrow to fully understand the experiences and articulations of minority climbers. Nevertheless, in relation to ethnic identification, the scholarly literature on integration and assimilation mirror and shape the lens of many scholars, politicians, and policymakers. This warrants a (brief) discussion of the main integration models (Sect. 2.1).

The literature on ethnic options is more suitable for studying the ethnic identification of individuals (Sect. 2.2). In addition, Bourdieu's concepts provide a useful lens to understand the self-identifications of social climbers, as I will explain in Sect. 2.3. I continue with a more abstract discussion of two opposing analytical perspectives: constructivism and objectivism (Sect. 2.4). I argue why, in an attempt to avoid the reification of dominant images, I adopt a constructivist perspective. In Sect. 2.5, I assemble an analytical toolkit, and in Sect. 2.6, I clarify my choices in terminology. The chapter concludes with a short summary (Sect. 2.7).

#### **2.1 Shortcomings of Integration and Assimilation Theories**

The foundation of the integration literature, the model on which other integration theories respond to and build upon, is the idea of 'straight-line assimilation', or 'classic assimilation theory' originally stemming from Warner and Srole (1945) (see Gans 1992; Alba and Nee 1997). The basic assumptions of this theory resound in the assimilationist discourse that has gained in strength in the last decennia, as we will see in Chap. 4. Straight-line assimilation assumes that immigrants eventually will adapt to their new country. They will become increasingly 'similar' and will eventually be seamlessly incorporated into mainstream society (Alba and Nee 1997, p. 835). Inspired by the famous scheme of Gordon (1964), different domains of assimilation are distinguished, including a structural and a cultural dimension. Even though assimilation in one domain can precede assimilation in another, straight-line assimilation assumes that sooner or later assimilation into the society of residence (read: into the middle class) occurs in all domains. An increased 'national' orientation (an orientation to the society of residence) is considered an unavoidable outcome of immigrant incorporation over time. This is presumed to be accompanied by a gradual loss of 'ethnic' orientations (orientations towards the heritage culture of the immigrants, towards the country of origin and towards coethnics) (Alba and Nee 1997).

I identify two lines of reactions to this straight-line model. The first line challenges the zero-sum assumption that an increasing national identification coincides with a weakening ethnic-minority orientation. Instead, incorporation processes are argued to be bi-dimensional, which means that the ethnic-minority orientation is independent of the national orientation (Hutnik 1991; Berry 1997, 2005). Studies even show that a combination of an ethnic and a national orientation is most beneficial for a person's wellbeing (Berry 1997, 2005; Phinney et al. 2001). Nevertheless, the option for minority groups and individuals to retain their ethnic culture and identity is strongly influenced by the dominant discourses (Berry 1997; Phinney et al. 2001). As we will also see in this study, when immigrants are not allowed to retain their ethnic cultures and identifications while integrating into society, they can feel forced to choose between completely adapting to the society of residence and purely dissociating themselves from society.

The second line of reactions challenges the idea that immigrants necessarily incorporate into the middle class segment of the society of residence (which is the implicit assumption of the straight-line model). Society also has lower class segments. Lower class immigrants, living in lower class neighborhoods especially are prone to integrate into an underclass (Gans 1992; Portes and Zhou 1993) and adopt a rebellious identity that rejects the desirability of schooling and a professional career (Ogbu and Simons 1998). People with a rebellious identity assume that for them school achievement does not lead to upward mobility, and they consider high achievers to be sellouts to oppressive authority (Zhou 1997, p. 987). Such oppositional stances have drastic negative impacts on school performance and socioeconomic status and are likely to result in downward mobility.

These two critiques are combined in the famous model of 'segmented assimilation' developed by Portes and Zhou (1993, see also Portes et al. 2009). Ethnic-minority identification is not seen as a liability for integration but as a resource for upward mobility for many second-generation youth. Their parents' culture and the coethnic community provide access to valuable forms of coethnic capital and protect from discrimination. This theory makes a key contribution to the models of integration by acknowledging the (socioeconomic or structural) value of a coethnic orientation and by debunking the assumption that complete adaptation to the society of residence can be only beneficial.

These integration theories focus on the group level and discuss societal processes in objectivist ways, detached from individual actions and interpretations. This focus on the group level fails to do justice to reality. When groups are taken as units of analysis, variations over time and between individuals are ignored. Crul and Vermeulen (2003) warn of the risk of being too deterministic with premature classification, as adaptation processes can change over time. This change is illustrated by the case of Moroccan immigrants and their offspring: 'The Moroccan community (…) once seemed headed for downward assimilation, but now seems to be rising' (ibid., p. 983). Additionally, the group approach does not do justice to intragroup differences. Portes et al., take ethnic groups as levels of analysis and in the first place use segmented assimilation theory to explain differences *between* ethnic groups. Challenges and resources are in the first place treated as group characteristics. Large differences that exist *within* ethnic groups are therefore largely neglected, and factors that possibly play a role in processes of incorporation, such as gender, class, profession, religion, and local context, are overlooked. For example, daughters of immigrants reach higher levels of education than sons—at least in the United States (Stepick and Stepick 2010, p. 1153), but also sometimes encounter lower parental expectations (Thomson and Crul 2007, p. 1034) and more stringent demands with regard to modest behavior (Song 2003, p. 47). As Crul and Vermeulen emphasize, 'different segments of the same group may follow different paths' (2003, p. 975) (see also for example Zhou and Xiong 2005). It is even possible for an individual's acculturation mode to vary per context and per life phase (Crul and Schneider 2010). The polarization between individuals who are successful and those who lag behind within ethnic groups illustrates that groups are not uniform and exist in various segments (Crul and Doomernik 2003; Gijsberts and Dagevos 2009). By focusing only on Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch with higher education levels, I selected a subsegment of ethnic categories with a particular incorporation characteristic (higher education level). In other words, I build upon this intragroup variation as a given. Yet, I also look beyond the influence of education level. Throughout my study, I also remain open to other variations within the two ethnic groups, within the higher-educated samples, for example in relation to gender.

#### **2.2 Ethnic Identification at the Individual Level. Ethnic Options**

If we want to attend to processes at the individual level, we can better turn to literature that looks at ethnic identity from another angle. The literature on 'ethnic options' deals with the workings of ethnicity and ethnic identification at the individual level. Instead of assuming that ethnic identification necessarily reflects an encompassing cultural orientation or social cohesion, it seeks other explanations for and roles of ethnic identification. It shifts the focus away from ethnic groups to individuals, and from external structures to the interaction between personal agency and external structures.

Gans developed the idea that persisting ethnic identification does not necessarily reflect an orientation towards coethnics or the 'old ethnic cultures' (1979, p. 6). He argues that ethnic identification among the third and successive generations—such as the third generation Jews in the United States—does not require cohesive ethnic networks and practiced cultures. This kind of ethnic identification, which Gans calls 'symbolic ethnicity', is not anchored in groups and roles. It is voluntary, without consequential behavioral expectations, and primarily expressive, relying on the use of symbols. In the words of Cornell and Hartmann (1998), we can call 'symbolic ethnicity' a 'thin' identity because it 'organizes relatively little of social life and action' (p. 73). Waters (1990) further illustrated this 'symbolic ethnicity' in her book *Ethnic Options*. She describes the 'symbolic ethnicity' of descendants of white European Catholic immigrants, which is indeed costless, voluntary, and individualistic. Many of the 'white ethnics' in her study identify in ethnic terms (only) at the moments they wish to; they choose 'to turn their ethnicity on and off at will' (1996). They are not labeled by others in ethnic terms, and their ethnic background only influences their lives when they want it to.

In later work, Waters (1996) argues that this 'optional ethnicity' is not available for visible minorities that have a socially enforced or imposed identity and are confined to a minority status. She concludes that many ethnic (and racial) minorities do not have these 'ethnic options'. Rumbaut likewise explains that those labeled as 'non-white' face an entirely different situation than descendants of white European immigrants, whose ethnic identifications have gradually become individualized and voluntary (2008). When ethnic differences are socially relevant—for example in the context of the prejudice and discrimination that 'non-white' minorities encounter—this makes individuals self-conscious of their ethnic backgrounds. A likely response is for them to strengthen their ethnic identifications, leading to a 'reactive ethnicity'. LikeWaters, Rumbaut argues that it is unlikely that the ethnic identity of the successive generations of 'non-white' ethnic minorities will become optional, voluntary and 'symbolic'.

Song wants to shift from a victimizing perspective on minorities to the acknowledgement of individual agency. She counters the proposition that stigmatized ethnicminority individuals have few or no 'ethnic options' (2001, 2003). She shows that although the freedom to assert their preferred identity labels wherever or whenever they wish is limited, they have power to influence connotations and meanings associated with their identities. Even though structural forces can be very influential, ethnic minorities are not powerless and do not lack agency in asserting their ethnic identities. They do have ethnic options. In this study I respond to Song's call to acknowledge the agency of individuals with stigmatized minority identities and enhance our understanding of their ethnic options. Later in the book, however, I warn against overestimating this individual agency.

#### **2.3 Identity and Social Mobility. Bourdieu's Lens**

Bourdieu's academic legacy provides a vocabulary for analyzing the contextual, relational, and temporal nature of identification and linking identification with social mobility. The concepts that form the core of his thinking—habitus, field, capital, and symbolic power—help interpret the empirical results. Bourdieu's theory forms an analytical lens for describing and understanding the dialectic relation between agency and structure; feelings of belonging and discomfort, and strategies of negotiation; and, the contextual, relational, and temporal aspects of these experiences.

#### **Habitus, Field, Identity, and Symbolic Power**

#### *Habitus, Practices and 'Objective' Structures*

Bourdieu's theory—what he calls a 'theory of practice'—connects the individual's agency with the overarching structures, which Bourdieu sees as originating in each other (see e.g. Bourdieu 1990; Wacquant 2008). At the core of Bourdieu's thinking is that the individual dispositions through which we perceive, judge, and act in the world—what he calls *habitus*—are formed through the conditions of one's life that shape possibilities and impossibilities. These conditions include profession, income, education level, gender, ancestry, and religion, but also more subjective properties such as feelings of belonging (Bourdieu 1992, p. 225). Habitus shapes—primarily unconsciously—how one thinks, walks, eats, laughs, what one aspires to and estimates as attainable 'for people like us', and what one views as just. In the first instance, habitus is shaped through the primary socialization at home, but formal education also strongly influences the habitus. In short, habitus is formed though societal structures that are coercive but not deterministic. These dispositions form the basis for people's actions, or *practices*, which in turn continuously (re-)generate the societal structures. These practices do not necessarily only reproduce existing structures; they can also change these social structures.

This interaction between agency and structure is reflected in the stories in this book. These stories delineate how individuals are partly predisposed by their upbringing and other societal forces, but at the same time show that these forces do not necessarily render them powerless and do not make them mechanically reproduce the existing structures and hierarchies. The self-identifications, the articulation of identity labels by the individuals who are central to this book, can be regarded as practices.

#### *Field and Capital*

Bourdieu's concepts 'field' and 'capital' also prove useful for describing and interpreting the experiences and practices of this study's participants. Society consists of various spheres, *fields*, with their own structures, rules, regularities and forms of authority, which are continuously recreated. Examples of fields are art, science, economy, law, and politics (Wacquant 2008). As we will see throughout the book, smaller, more personal social spheres, such as peer networks, can also function as fields. When the rules of the game in a particular field are deeply internalized in the habitus, an individual feels like a fish in the water. Bourdieu also speaks of 'belonging to a field' (1990, p. 68).

Different fields require different resources, *capital*, to obtain a certain position or status. Bourdieu distinguishes between various kinds of resources: economic capital (material and financial assets), social capital (direct and indirect social support), cultural capital (including skills, knowledge, and behavioral styles), and symbolic capital (such as prestige and reputation, which have a more implicit value) (Wacquant 2008, p. 268). These resources make those individuals function in particular ways in particular fields, and sometimes change their position in a field or even enter a new field.

#### *Class, Identity, and Belonging*

People holding similar positions in certain fields live under similar conditions, have similar experiences, and similar political interests, and possess similar amounts of capital. They have a similar (homologous) habitus. They are also more likely to feel affiliated with each other and have feelings of mutual understanding. In other words, people in similar positions have the same 'social identities' and form 'classes'. They are more likely—but not predestined—to form alliances and groups (Bourdieu 1985).

Although socioeconomic class in Bourdieu's theory functions as the primary determinant of habitus (Reay 2004), Bourdieu's theory is inherently intersectional. As Bourdieu argues, one's habitus and one's position are shaped by a combination of socially-relevant characteristics, including gender and ethnic background (see also Friedman 2016; Reay 2004; Silva 2016).

Bourdieu opposes the idea that individuals are rational actors who consciously pursue economic gains (Bourdieu 1990, p. 50). He considers dignity, or recognition, to be the primary motivation of individuals. The judgement of others impacts feelings of uncertainty, certainty, insecurity and assurance (1977, p. 238 in Wacquant 2008, p. 265). '[B]eing granted a name, a place, a function within a group or institution' gives meaning to one's life (Wacquant 2008, p. 265). Apparently, as we will also see in the participants' stories, belonging in a field does not only depend on the habitus, but also on recognition by others.

#### *Symbolic Power, Classification and Struggle*

Social recognition is influenced by the dominant worldviews. All people continuously construct views of the social world, including classifications and hierarchies. They try to impose their view of the world and their own place in the world (Bourdieu 1985, p. 727). When a certain view of the social world is internalized, people accept their position and the associated limitations as natural and self-evident ('that's not for the likes of us'), and they respect and strengthen the existing classifications (Bourdieu 1985). This is how ideas about groups contribute to the real existence of groups and their identity.

Although multiple views on the world exist, some views have more legitimacy than others. *Symbolic power* is the power to make other people adopt a certain worldview. It refers to the ability to influence the rules of the game, establish authority, and make people perceive existing classifications and hierarchies as legitimate and fair. Symbolic power is based on status and prestige, on symbolic capital. Credentials such as certificates, diplomas, and titles provide individuals with certain amounts of symbolic power and are institutionalized instruments in this system (Bourdieu 1985, 1990).

People and institutions with more symbolic power have 'the power to *name* and to make-exist by virtue of naming' (Bourdieu 1985, p. 729; italics in original). They have the power to assign people to certain categories, telling them who they are, what they have to be and what they have done (Bourdieu 1989, p. 22). According to Bourdieu, the state holds 'the monopoly of legitimate symbolic violence', exerted through official discourse, institutionalized classifications, administrative taxonomies, and professional titles and diplomas (1985, p. 732). This is also the case in relation to ethnic categories and ethnic hierarchies, which are created and strengthened by immigration policies, census-taking, redistribution of resources, affirmative action, and rules for political access (Brubaker and Cooper 2000; Nagel 1994; Wimmer 2008). This is exactly what Dutch politicians, media, and governmental institutions do when they consistently label citizens with immigrant backgrounds as 'allochthonous' (literally 'not from this soil'; implying a lesser belonging) and base reports about society on the statistical categories 'allochtonous' and 'authochtonous'. As we will see in Chap. 4, this contrived distinction between those who fully belong and those who do not is legitimized through the idea that geographical rootedness forms the ground for entitlements, and through a persistent portrayal of 'Others' as traditional, orthodox, and backward, and inherently different from the 'real' Dutch.

The existence of differing worldviews produces an ongoing struggle between those who want to preserve the status quo and those who pursue change (Bourdieu 1989, p. 21). This struggle contains individual struggles in everyday life as well as collective struggles in the political domain. Bourdieu speaks of the incessant work of categorization, which is performed 'at every moment of ordinary existence, in the struggles in which agents clash over the meaning of the social world and of their position within it, the meaning of their social identity' (1985, p. 729). According to Bourdieu, one of the aims of scientific work is to understand the principles of the classification strategies though which individuals conserve or modify the world and their own position in this world (1985, p. 734). This is exactly what this research aims to do. I study the assertion of self-identification (practices) as expression and negotiation of categorizations, as it takes place in relation to mechanisms of inclusion and exclusion, and feelings of belonging.

#### *Temporality*

Although Bourdieu's thinking is extremely useful for understanding continuity and social reproduction, contrary to what is often assumed, his theory also leaves room for change, improvisation, struggle, and individual agency (see also Friedman 2016; Jo 2013; Reay 2004; Sweetman 2003). Bourdieu focuses on practices and how they enfold in time and thus does not regard the world as static; he sees practice as 'inseparable from temporality' (1990, p. 81). He emphasizes that the habitus functions in a 'non-mechanical' way (1990, p. 55). When the habitus is not aligned with the field—because of the individual's (social) mobility into a new field or new position in the same field, or because of a change of the field itself—a change in the habitus is a near-inevitable consequence. His assertion that people constantly try to impose their view on the world in an ongoing struggle for symbolic power further illustrates the dynamic character of his theory (1985, p. 727). Wacquant even concludes: 'Struggle, not "reproduction", is the master metaphor at the core of his thought' (2008, p. 264).

#### **Impact of Social Mobility: Cleft Habitus, Navigating Multiple Fields**

Bourdieu's concepts have been widely applied in studies about the impact of social mobility on individuals (see for example Abrahams and Ingram 2013; Byrom and Lightfoot 2012; Carter 2003; Friedman 2016; Horvat 2003; Jo 2013; Lee and Kramer 2013; Reay et al. 2009, 2010; Schneider and Lang 2014; Sweetman 2003). Bourdieu argues that, in the case of social mobility, the habitus is no longer completely aligned with the new position in the field and the individual can feel like a fish out of water, both in the 'old' lower-class field of the home and in the new field of higher education or middle class. The mismatch between the new position and the old habitus can lead to discomfort and feelings of insecurity and alienation because the sense of self is 'torn by contradiction and internal division' (Bourdieu 2004, p. 109, in Friedman 2016). Bourdieu calls this a 'habitus clivé', or 'cleft habitus'. This situation often leads to a 'painful and disorienting struggle to reconstruct one's sense of place within social space' (Bourdieu 1999 in Friedman 2016, p. 139) and to changes in the habitus. Empirical studies illustrate the challenges, struggles, and negotiations that result from social mobility (see for example Friedman 2016).

Other authors nuance this problematic picture. Although none of them claim that dealing with social mobility is easy and painless, their articles focus on the agency of the social climbers and explore how social climbers deal with the challenges of social mobility (Byrom and Lightfoot 2012; Lee and Kramer 2013; Reay et al. 2010). Some social climbers resolve the tension between the two fields by only choosing for one field as the primary anchor of identification and social belonging. However, many climbers try to reconcile the two fields and in both fields negotiate their belonging (Abrahams and Ingram 2013). In the home field, for example, they use specific language to avoid coming across as a snob or to express skepticism about their new advantages (Lee and Kramer 2013). They try to maintain a personal identity that is in line with their lower class background (Lee and Kramer 2013).

These processes and strategies are influenced by ethnicity. Carter's research (2003) shows that African American climbers negotiate their belonging in the home field by showing 'ethnic authenticity' (comparable to what we maybe can call 'working class authenticity'). Social recognition in the home field is related to the use of 'black cultural capital'. In Chap. 7 we will see that this 'ethnic authenticity' intersects with class.

Some authors assert that this switching between positions and fields results in a habitus with a characteristic element: reflexivity. This 'habitual reflexivity' is a particular type of habitus (Sweetman 2003). The idea of the reflexive habitus resolves the dilemma of how habitus—presented as striving for confirmation and continuity—can be connected with flexibility. This reflexive habitus develops especially when individuals have dealt with mismatch since early childhood. Many social climbers had already, in early childhood, been forced to deal with a mismatch between their own individual habitus—characterized by curiosity, ambition and discipline—and their low-class environment. These early experiences of discomfort, of feeling like a fish out of water and of knowing that nothing can be taken for granted, can lead to flexible and reflexive dispositions (Reay et al. 2009), a 'chameleon habitus' (Abrahams and Ingram 2013).

This chameleon habitus is more than a habitus that consists of separate parts that are aligned with separate fields. Inspired by Bhabha (1994), Abrahams and Ingram call this chameleon habitus a 'third space'. This third space refers to a separate place, separate from the two fields, 'from which to navigate and reconcile the apparent incommensurability of the two fields' (Abrahams and Ingram 2013, par. 4.21). The description of Reay et al. elucidates how the reflexive habitus functions as a third space (2009). They describe that their informants have a critically reflective stance on the academic field and its hegemony, combined with a strong commitment to this field. The reflexive habitus functions as an overarching, binding layer, a third space, which—through reflexivity, awareness and constant deliberation—helps them navigate the multiple different fields.

#### **2.4 Ethnicity as Social Construction**

The various academic fields, which build on divergent views on ethnicity and identity, are based on different assumptions about the inevitable or 'substantial' character of ethnicity and ethnic or national identification. These ontological perspectives influence how, as researchers, we observe the world. In this section, I discuss the potential and drawbacks of a constructivist and an objectivist stance on ethnicity and on identity in a broader sense. I explain my preference for a constructivist perspective.

#### **The Academic Consensus: Ethnicity as Social Construction**

In everyday life, there is little recognition of the dynamic aspects of social identities, and of ethnic identity in particular. It is commonly assumed that people with the same 'ethnicity' are highly similar to one another and are bound together—that they have shared behaviors, emotions, morals, skills, and so forth—solely because they share a certain characteristic such as (some part of) their descent. This is also a common view in the Netherlands, as I will describe in Chap. 4. Ethnic identity is seen as an indisputable, primordial characteristic, something a person or a group 'just has' by nature, and which is unchangeable. This objectivist or essentialist view is based on the assumption that all ethnic groups have static cultures that are inherently different from each other. Groups and cultures are seen as monolithic, meaning they are taken to be 'internally homogeneous and externally bounded' (Brubaker 2002, p. 164).

In academia, however, it is common to consider social identities, including ethnicity, as being continuously created through people's actions. Rather than viewing ethnic identities as self-evident products of naturally-existing ethnic groups, ethnic identities are seen as emerging from boundaries that are constructed between (imagined) social groups. These constructed boundaries make people see themselves as members of groups and are recognized as such by others. These ethnic groups are then tagged with ethnic labels and defined in cultural terms. Particular cultural elements are selected to demarcate the ethnic boundaries, which are consequently defined in terms of language, religion, customs, rituals, moralities, or ideologies; or, more specifically, in terms of dress, food, gestures, space, or gender roles (Jenkins 2008a, p. 79, 111, Nagel 1994, p. 153). In summary, 'culture' provides the meaning and content of ethnicity in society (Nagel 1994, p. 162). In the social sciences, this constructivist view, which is traced back to a paper of Norwegian anthropologist Fredrik Barth in (1969), is the dominant perspective (Baumann and Sunier 1995; Jenkins 2008a). Bader states: 'We are all constructivists now' (2001, p. 251).

A constructivist view enables us to identify variations in the meaning of a specific concept; to unravel the mechanisms that bring about these meanings; and to identify power imbalances between different stakeholders that factor into the process of meaning-making. (See for example Stuart Hall's description of the evolving meaning of the category 'black' [1991].) This view can be 'liberating', as it provides a tool for unmasking power inequalities that underlie the roles that are attributed to people. Societal roles and positions are often regarded as inescapable because they are based on classifications and stereotypes that are seen as natural. An example is the presumed 'natural' tendency of 'the woman' to take care of the children that 'inevitably' leads to underrepresentation of women in high-profile public functions. It can be liberating to understand how such stereotypical ideas emerge, how and why these images are fed and spread, and how individuals deal with these images. In the words of Schulz: viewing phenomena as social constructions and unmasking authority 'contributes to our understanding of social and political processes through which individuals and groups locate themselves in relation to others, understand themselves, and define their possibilities' (1998, p. 336 in Song 2003, p. 84). A constructivist view allows us to examine how identities in general, and ethnic identities in particular, are constructed and reconstructed over time.

#### **Is There Really a Constructivist Consensus? Two Traps**

This post-Barth constructivist consensus is in reality not beyond dispute. Critique is voiced on the constructivist stance itself, on the easy dismissal of the relevance of objectivist perspectives, and on the actual application of the constructivist perspective in much of the scholarly literature.

#### *Constructivism Versus Objectivism*

Objectivism 'asserts that social phenomena and their meanings have an existence that is independent of social actors' (Bryman 2001, p. 17). This implies the existence of a reality that is external to the people involved. Instead of perceiving culture and cultural meaning as shaped and reshaped by people, the objectivist view regards culture in a reified way: as existing 'repositories of widely shared values and customs into which people are socialized', existing independently of these people with an 'almost tangible reality of its own' (ibid., p. 17). Perspectives like primordialism (the idea that a phenomenon is a primal given) and essentialism (the idea that a phenomenon has a real and static 'essence', independent of people and contexts) are related to objectivist thinking. In the social sciences, objectivist perspectives are often dismissed as 'essentialist', which has strong normative connotations. Nobody proudly claims to be an 'essentialist' (Phillips 2010). 'Most people who use it use it as a slur word, intended to put down the opposition' (Hacking 1999, p. 17). Essentialism is associated with racism and is 'increasingly employed as a term of criticism' (Verkuyten 2005, p. 125).

However, simply dismissing essentialism makes it easy to overlook the possible value and relevance of essentialist and objectivist thinking and the possible downsides of a constructivist perspective. Firstly, according to some, constructivism does not lead to adequate descriptions of social phenomena. As constructivism tends to emphasize processual, unstable, instrumental, and political aspects, and tries to explain fluctuations in definitions of ethnicity and ethnic identification, it can fall short in accounting for the social relevance and tangible consequences of certain phenomena (Liebkind 1992, p. 154). Brubaker and Cooper suggest that a constructivist conception of 'identity' makes it hard to account for crystallized self-understandings, the sometimes coercive force of external identifications, the singular understandings, unitary groups, and the power of identity politics (2000, p. 1). For example, when we emphasize the fluid character of ethnicity, we risk underestimating the inevitability of ethnic classification and its consequences for certain individuals or certain groups, as well as possible practical, social, and mental benefits of ethnic identification. Bader even accuses constructivists of seeing phenomena as not 'real', as only 'abstract and purely analytical notions', as 'fictions' (2001, p. 254).

I disagree with this simplified presentation of constructivism. A constructivist perspective does not necessarily imply that a phenomenon or concept is indefinitely or individually malleable. As explained by Bourdieu: that the dynamics of everyday life are a consequence of human action does not make social structures less 'real', rigid and durable. A constructivist view does not deny the concreteness of situations, but sees it as a consequence of human action rather than as an external, lawful given.

Secondly, some argue that essentialist perspectives are portrayed too negatively. Verkuyten criticizes the widespread idea that essentialist views on culture are generally oppressive (Verkuyten 2005, Chap. 5). He argues that essentialist reasoning, which presumes the inevitable incompatibility of two cultures, is not only used by ethnic majorities to oppress minorities, but is also used by ethnic minorities in emancipatory ways; for example when used in protests against assimilationist demands and in claims for recognition of cultural differences and identities—as 'strategic essentialism' (Spivak 1988).

Thirdly, some argue that essentialist views are evident in many political, social, and psychological processes. Brubaker explains that essentialism forms the base of politics: 'Reifying groups is precisely what ethnopolitical entrepreneurs are in the business of doing', as in politics, the 'political fiction of the unified groups' is important, and these unified groups are partly evoked by talking as if they exist (2002, p. 167). In similar vein, Phillips (2010) argues that essentialism is a common way of thinking in many social and political contexts. Furthermore, both Phillips and Verkuyten explain that essentialist thinking is a key psychological mechanism because it helps people process complex information by providing a firm understanding of the world (Medin 1989 in Verkuyten 2005, p. 126; Phillips 2010). An essentialist perspective can also contribute to a secure sense of identity as people who strongly identify with a group are generally more inclined to see their group as essentially homogenous and distinctive (Verkuyten 2005, p. 142).

Even though Verkuyten and Phillips convincingly show the political, social, and psychological importance of essentialist reasoning, their argument is not necessarily convincing from an ontological perspective. The argument that essentialist thinking is very common in practice does not prove that a social phenomenon is essentialist in its character. When a phenomenon—such as a specific ethnic group—is dynamic over time in shape and meaning, and varies per context, it is still possible for people to view it in a reified way, perceiving it to be static, with a natural essence. Brubaker emphasizes the important distinction between the realm of practice and the realm of analysis. He argues that a social phenomenon, such as a reified idea about ethnic identity or an ethnic group, is 'a key part of what we want to explain, not what we want to explain things with; it belongs to our empirical data, not to our analytical toolkit' (2002, p. 165). We should carefully distinguish between a 'category of practice', which refers to categories as used in everyday social experience by 'ordinary social actors', and a 'category of analysis' as used by the analyst (Brubaker and Cooper 2000, p. 4). It is up to us, researchers, to study *why* ethnicity is presented as a reified given, rather than adopting this view as our own.

#### *Constructivism Implemented: Traps of Essentialism and Ambiguity*

This brings us to a discussion about how constructivism is applied or 'implemented' in the realm of analysis. How is a constructivist perspective applied in academic studies in our 'categories of analysis'? It appears that constructivism is easier said than done. I identify two traps: the 'essentialist trap' and the 'ambiguity trap'.

In 1999, Hacking already complained that social construction was frayed. In his view, the numerous studies tagged as the 'social construction of…' were more cases of 'bandwagon jumping' than anything actually related to social construction (1999, p. 35). Correspondingly, Brubaker and Cooper argue that the academic consensus has turned into 'clichéd constructivism' (2000, p. 11), as they 'often find an uneasy amalgam of constructivist language and essentialist argumentation' (ibid., p. 6). This is not equally the case for all categorizations. For example, in the case of class, there has been a remarked change. Nowadays, the term 'working class' can hardly be used without quotation marks and 'the working class' is seldom regarded as a homogenous entity and an autonomous actor (Brubaker 2002). By contrast, ethnicity is often considered in 'groupist' terms as Brubaker et al. explain:

Despite the constructivist stance that has come to prevail in sophisticated studies of ethnicity, everyday talk, policy analysis, media reporting, and even much ostensibly constructivist academic writing about ethnicity remain informed by 'groupism': by the tendency to take discrete, sharply differentiated, internally homogeneous, and externally bounded groups as basic constituents of social life, chief protagonists of social conflicts and fundamental units of social analysis. Ethnic groups, races, and nations continue to be treated as things-in-theworld, as real, substantial entities with their own cultures, their own identities and their own interests. (…) the social and cultural world is represented in groupist terms as a multichrome mosaic of monochrome racial, ethnic, or cultural blocks. (Brubaker et al. 2004, p. 45)

The groupist perspective is illustrated by the fact that ethnic categories ('classes' in Bourdieu's terms) are often called ethnic 'groups', which suggests a certain level of uniformity and/or cohesion and interaction that is not necessarily present (Goffman 1990[1963]; Brubaker 2002). Also the widespread use of the terms 'ingroup' and 'outgroup', and 'bonding' and 'bridging' in reference to entire ethnic categories reflects the prevalence of groupist thinking. In academic literature as well as in common integration discourses, the social context of ethnic minorities is commonly discussed in dichotomous terms. The social context of ethnic minorities is divided into a so-called ethnic ingroup and a so-called ethnic outgroup. These terms are derived from social identity theory, developed by Tajfel and Turner (1979). This theory postulates that the act of self-categorization in itself leads to 'ingroup' favoritism (with an emphasis on sameness, belonging, and consonance) and 'outgroup' derogation (with an emphasis on distinction, non-belonging, and dissonance).<sup>1</sup> This is even the case when this categorization is totally arbitrary and, for example, based on the toss of a coin. Connection of the terms 'ingroup' and 'outgroup' to ethnic categories ignores the condition of self-categorization and imposes the idea that ethnic minorities inevitably have a coethnic favoritism and always distinguish themselves from people with a different ethnic background. Applying the basic idea of social identity theory to entire ethnic categories blindly presupposes a self-categorization in solely ethnic-minority terms. A similar faltering line of thought underlies the common use of the concepts 'bonding' and 'bridging' (like for example by Putnam 2000). These terms are often used to denote coethnic and interethnic relations. This implies that ethnic groups are necessarily cohesive, that people with the same ethnic background are naturally more similar than people with different ethnic backgrounds, and that coethnics are naturally drawn towards each other; it presupposes groupness.

'Groupist' scholars do not deliberately take a 'groupist' (or objectivist or essentialist) stance, but apparently it is difficult to avoid such ways of thinking. The line between concepts as they are used as 'categories of practice' and as 'categories of analysis' is often blurred (Brubaker 2013, p. 5). This confusion of categories of analysis and categories of practice in empirical studies leads scholars to speak as if such internally homogeneous, externally bounded groups exist (ibid., p. 5). Thus, instead of studying how meanings originate and shift in practice, they often contribute to reifications of categories such as 'Moroccans', 'Turks' or Muslims. Apparently, there is what I call an 'essentialist trap'. This is primarily a problem in empirical studies, which explains the gap between 'the grand theoretical work that asks us to rethink everything on the basis of no serious empirical data and the empirical work that keep churning out the same banalities as it did twenty years ago' (Baumann 1999, p. 143). A groupist stance easily leads to an 'ethnic lens', to an overestimation of the relevance of ethnicity resulting from the narrow focus of the researcher. This ethnic

<sup>1</sup>The terms consonant and dissonant are also employed in segmented assimilation theory but with a different meaning. There, consonance and dissonance specifically refer to how acculturation processes of children relate to the acculturation processes of the parents. The proposition is that the social mobility of the children is hampered in a situation of dissonance, i.e., when the acculturation process of the parents severely lags behind the acculturation of the children, which is supposed to often be the case in low-capital minority groups (Portes and Rumbaut 2001; Portes et al. 2009).

lens prevails in the now-common approach of taking the 'ethnic group' as a unit of analysis (Glick Schiller 2008; Glick Schiller et al. 2006). Baumann explains this relation:

(…) yet, when it comes to empirical studies of ethnicity, most students are still given topics such as 'The Turks in Berlin', 'The Berbers in Paris', or 'The Sikhs in New York'. The focus is on a national, ethnic, or religious minority as if anyone could know in advance how this minority is bounded and which processes proceed inside and which outside that assumed community. We have, in effect, created a little island; we study this island, and we usually conclude that the island is, in so many ways, an island. (Baumann 1999, p. 145–146)

Taking 'ethnic groups' as units of analysis tends to contribute to reification of the ethnic categories because 'ethnicity' becomes the primary lens of observation and interpretation. Apparently, this often occurs in the social sciences. Carter and Fenton (2009) even speak about a broad 'ethnicization of sociology' in which ethnic and national identities dominate our thinking. Fox and Jones argue that this preoccupation with ethnicity, particularly in the scholarly field of migration, has given ethnicity 'a fixity in both popular and scholarly imagination that is at odds with its contingent and socially constructed nature' (2013, p. 385). This preoccupation not only leads to an overstating of the concreteness of ethnic groups, but also to the mobilization of an ethnic explanatory framework at the expense of alternative and possibly more relevant explanations for social phenomena, such as for example poverty (Brubaker 2013). Such an ethnic lens can obscure underlying mechanisms, such as educational values and social support (Carter and Fenton 2009). Furthermore, one risks overlooking external mechanisms, which can lead to blaming the victim. For example, social processes governing the socioeconomic status of immigrants often are more strongly influenced by immigrant status, social origins and education, and market dynamics, than by culture and identity (Brubaker 2013, p. 5). In similar vein, by referring to people by their ethnic background (for example as 'Moroccans') and using ethnicity as a central analytical term, their ethnic background is emphasized, together with their supposed cultural Otherness. Although my study is yet another study that focuses on ethnic identity, in which I selected the participants based on their ethnic-minority background, I try to avoid the ethnic lens and examine rather than assume the relevance of ethnicity and ethnic identification.

A second criticism of the work of constructivist scholars is that their concepts are often vague and ambiguous. This point of critique is roughly the opposite of the previous accusation of essentialism (even though the critics are the same). Hacking argues that social constructivist claims are often confusing because the phenomena studied are multifaceted and therefore complex (1999). This makes it hard to use concepts in clear and unambiguous ways, and leads to what I call the 'trap of ambiguity' of constructivist thinking. As an example, Hacking raises the issue of the construction of gender: does the social construction of gender refer to the idea that gendered people exist, to the gendered people themselves, to the language, institutions, human bodies or perhaps to 'the experience' of being female?

Similarly, Brubaker and Cooper argue that the analytical use of 'identity' is often characterized by ambiguity (2000). 'Identity', just like 'ethnicity', is used in divergent ways. The terms refer to both structural characteristics and individual affiliations, and to both external labeling and self-understandings. They have contradictory connotations, as they sometimes imply stability and fundamental sameness, and sometimes seem to reject notions of basic sameness (ibid., p. 10); sometimes they refer to tight 'groupness' and sometimes to loose affiliations. A term cannot be used to distinguish between different phenomena and variations if these are all captured by the same term. In other words, the language of identity and ethnicity 'blurs what needs to be kept distinct', making these concepts ill-suited to do the analytical work (ibid., p. 27). Apparently, the complexity of phenomena that we label 'identity' and 'ethnicity' leads to the overuse and dilution of these analytical concepts. These concepts then become unfit for analytical purposes, despite their importance for everyday politics—as categories of practice.

In summary, across the social sciences there is a broad preference for constructivist thinking. Nevertheless, a few scholars highlight the practical importance of objectivist and essentialist thinking, pointing to its prominence in political, social, and psychological practices. However, the practical relevance of objectivism does not mean that we need to adopt this as our analytical perspective. For analytical purposes, a constructivist approach might still be preferred. Yet, adopting a constructivist approach appears to be easier said than done, particularly in empirical studies. On the one hand, we find the essentialist trap. Scholars often unintentionally end up reinforcing essentialist notions of ethnicity and ethnic groups, particularly when they take ethnic categories as units of analysis. On the other hand, we find the trap of ambiguity. The multifaceted character of social phenomena makes it hard to analyze these phenomena in unambiguous ways. In the following section, I explain how I try to avoid these two traps and discuss how I employ (ethnic and national) identity as an analytical concept.

My description of my research theme exposes my ontological position. The use of phrases like 'what ethnicity means for the higher-educated second generation' or 'practices of identification' show that my point of departure is constructivist. However, in response to the argument that a constructivist perspective risks overlooking the social relevance of a phenomenon, I argue that starting from a constructivist perspective does *not* preclude finding that a phenomenon is rather static, rigid, and uniform. This perspective does not predetermine that the phenomenon as it emerges from the empirical study is entirely dynamic, malleable, or social in character. At the same time, I believe that starting from an objectivist position presents the considerable risk of overlooking existing variations and dynamics that could (then falsely) lead to the conclusion that a phenomenon is objectivist in character. As I see it, the risk of drawing wrong conclusions about the character of a phenomenon is smaller when we start from a constructivist perspective.<sup>2</sup>

<sup>2</sup>The fact that I employ a constructivist perspective does not mean that I regard every concept as a social construct, rather that I approach *the main theme of ethnic identification* in a such way, which enables me to reveal its possibly constructed or relative character and the possible underlying mechanisms.

#### **2.5 Studying Ethnic Identification: Analytical Toolkit**

One of the major challenges in studying second-generation Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch individuals, whom I selected because of their ethnic background (*not* for their presumed evident ethnic identification), is avoiding an essentialist and groupist perspective and an ethnic lens. Based on various suggestions of migration and identity scholars, Fox and Jones propose a three-part approach for avoiding this trap (2013). Two of these solutions are methodological. The first solution is to avoid sampling on an ethnic dependent variable. For example, if the study only sampled individuals with strong ethnic identifications, we would overlook the existence of a potentially broad range of ethnic identifications. The second suggestion is to start from 'the everyday' as a means for observing practices beyond 'ethnic practices'. By expanding our focus beyond these practices, we can observe the possible relevance of non-ethnic dimensions and specify rather than infer the relevance of ethnicity. In Chap. 3, I explain how my research design complies with both of these suggestions. I explain how I try to avoid selecting participants based on their ethnic identification and avoid centering the interviews on the theme of ethnicity through an initial focus on the participants' trajectories of social mobility and their relationships with various social others. The third solution echoes Brubaker's warning about not conflating the category of analysis with the category of practice. We should not use 'ethnicity' as it is used in practice to analytically explain what 'ethnicity' means in everyday life. Instead, we should try to explain how ethnicity becomes socially meaningful. This is the challenge I take up here. In order to avoid this conflation of 'ethnicity' as a category of analysis and 'ethnicity' as a category of practice, as well as avoid the trap of ambiguity, I assembled an analytical toolkit consisting of five conceptual tools, which I present here.

The first analytical tool I use is to think in practices. Combining the lines of Bourdieu and Barth, instead of thinking in terms of fixed notions of 'identity' and 'ethnicity', the analytical focus is on *practices of identification*. This is an oft-used way of avoiding the essentialist trap, although most scholars speak of 'processes' of identification (see for example Baumann 1999; Brubaker and Cooper 2000; Giddens 1991; Hall 1991; Jenkins 2008b). Identification then, also in terms of ethnicity, is viewed as something that is not necessarily static over time and over situations but is 'done' in situations in which people concretely act and interact with each other. I specifically study the labels that individuals use in reference to themselves. I research the articulation of labels such as 'Moroccan', 'Turkish' or 'Dutch' and the reasons and mechanisms behind it. Thinking in practices enables us to recognize that individual identifications do not simply 'exist', but come into being and are asserted in various ways. Instead of assuming that people with ethnic-minority backgrounds identify in ethnic terms simply because they have certain ancestors and 'have' a specific 'culture', we can study what makes individuals emphasize a certain aspect of their identity, whether it be in ethnic or national terms or any other way. This way of thinking enables us to study whether and how various dimensions of identification vary in salience and meaning by context and over time. It enables us to analyze how and to what extent identifications are contextual and dynamic.

Because the aim is to research what 'ethnicity' means for the research participants, I distinguish between 'ethnic background' and 'ethnicity'. 'Ethnic background' exclusively refers to the fact that the participant's parents are born in Morocco, Turkey, or the Netherlands. 'Ethnicity' refers to the meaning that ethnic identity, or the ethnic label, has for individuals. It is studied through the participants' experiences in order to learn about the value and meaning that ethnicity has in their lives. This distinction is not applied to other terms, such as coethnic (referring to people with the same ethnic background) or ethnic categories (referring to people with a certain ethnic background). When I speak about Moroccan-Dutch or Turkish-Dutch people, these labels refer to their ethnic background and not to their self-identification.

The focus on practices of identification enables us to recognize the interactional aspect of identifications. According to Barth, the idea that ethnicity depends both on how people see themselves as groups and how others see them is central to the emergence of ethnic boundaries. We also saw that social belonging is an important aspect of Bourdieu's framework. Before Barth, Cooley had already introduced his metaphor of the 'looking glass self' to describe the social nature of one's self-perception as an interaction between how one sees oneself and how (he thinks) others see him (1964 in Jenkins 2008b, p. 62). Hence, the second tool in the toolkit is *the distinction between self* -*identification and external identification*, which refers, respectively, to the self-ascription of identity and identity-ascription by others (see for example Jenkins 2008a, b; Penninx 1988; Song 2003; Verkuyten 2005). I use 'categorization' or 'labeling' as synonyms for external identification.

When we attend to the influence of external ascription on one's self-identification, we can unmask power relations and the effects of external identification on individuals. The influence of external factors and underlying power hierarchies are easily overlooked when the focus is exclusively on processes of self-identification, as is often the case in the anthropological literature (Jenkins 2008a, pp. 57–58). In studies on integration and assimilation, it is often the other way around, as—because of a focus on the group level—these often focus primarily on structural factors and thereby overlook individual self-determination or individual agency (Song 2003, p. 8). By distinguishing self-identification from external identification, and by focusing on the interaction between both mechanisms, we can research the influence of structural factors on individual agency.

The third tool in the analytical toolkit is the distinction between *category and group*; or 'class' and group, as Bourdieu would say. This is a way to avoid groupist thinking, which is based on reifying assumptions about categories (Brubaker and Cooper 2000; Goffman 1990[1963]; Jenkins 2008a, b; Verkuyten 2005, p. 56). As we saw, groupist views assume that (ethnic) categories are highly homogeneous and cohesive. The term 'group' in itself elicits groupist thinking because even in its most minimal definition, 'group' implies a sense of affiliation, 'a capacity for collective action', and 'a stable and embracing pattern of mutual interaction' (Goffman 1990[1963], p. 36, see also Carter and Fenton 2009). Groupness is something we should study instead of presuppose (Brubaker 2002; Brubaker and Cooper 2000). The analytical distinction between category and group is required for analyzing the ways in which ethnicity can exist and 'work' without the existence of ethnic groups as substantial groups or entities. The concept of category 'can help us envision ethnicity without groups' (Brubaker 2002, p. 170) and enable us to analyze the relations between categories and groups (and categories and identifications, and identifications and groups). Category refers to an individual's characteristics that determine their position in a system of classification. Having at least one parent who is born in Morocco means that one's 'ethnicity' as a category is 'Moroccan'; I use ethnic background. I do not automatically assume anything about one's self-identification, external identification, one's social network or behavior solely on the basis of one's ethnic background. In the remainder of the book, I have often used 'category' where 'group' is common, except where this leads to an overly abstract reference to concrete people (citizens, neighborhood residents, or respondents). Here, I use 'group'.

The fourth analytical tool is the analytical distinction between *label and content*. A few authors elaborate on this distinction. For example, Verkuyten talks about label and the 'cultural component' (2005, p. 46). Jenkins uses the terms 'nominal identity' and 'virtual identity' (2008a, p. 76).<sup>3</sup> The distinction of label and content enables us to study what identification with a certain label means for an individual. It enables us to bring the 'cultural stuff' into the analysis, just as Jenkins pleads for, but as a topic of analysis and not as a self-evident aspect of one's self-identification (ibid., p. 172). The term 'identification' in this book solely refers to one's self-identification with a label—specifically to the practice of articulating a label in reference to oneself—without any broader connotations or automatic assumptions. Chap. 5 is built on this distinction and analyses the association between identification with the ethnic label and content.

The last tool to help avoid treating ethnicity in an essentialist way is the idea of *intersectionality*. Intersectional thinking is based on the idea that the various dimensions of a person's identity do not work separately but shape one another. So, how a female Muslim experiences her gender is not similar to the experiences of all women, and how she experiences being a Muslim is not similar to the experiences of all Muslims. Rather, her experiences as a woman are shaped by the fact that she is a Muslim, and her experiences as a Muslim are influenced by the fact that she is a woman. This idea that social divisions are interconnected has existed for a long time, but it was not labeled until Crenshaw (1989) coined the term 'intersectionality' to direct attention to the specific experiences of black women. Their experiences were misrecognized because gender inequality and racial inequality were only recognized as separate forms of oppression. Although the idea of intersectionality has become a central philosophy in (black) women's studies—in critique of the presentation of the experiences of white middle class feminists as*the* female experience (McCall 2005)—it has hardly extended beyond women's studies and 'black' women (Nash 2008, p. 4). It has not been employed to correct essentializing tendencies in studies on ethnic groups.

<sup>3</sup>I prefer to use different terms because of the connotation of 'virtual' as unreal and the confusion of 'nominal identity' and category (see for example the use of 'nominal identity' by Chandra 2012: 10).

For example, in the comprehensive overview works on (ethnic) identity of Jenkins (2008a, b) and Verkuyten (2005), and in the critical articles of Brubaker discussed above, this view is not discussed, let alone promoted for its de-essentializing merits. These authors only discuss the multifaceted (or 'hyphenated') character of identity in the context of a combination of ethnic and national dimensions. I consider this a missed opportunity. The acknowledgement of identity as a complex phenomenon and the decomposition of binary ways of thinking make intersectional thinking highly effective in avoiding groupist thinking (see also Anthias 2013). Nash places the call to broaden the application of intersectional thinking: 'If (…) intersectionality purports to provide a general tool that enables scholars to uncover the workings of identity, intersectionality scholarship must begin to broaden its reach to theorize an array of subject experience(s).' (2008, p. 10). However, we must be careful not to slip into new forms of essentialism by replacing larger homogenizing categories with slightly smaller homogenizing categories and by looking at an 'intersection' as two unproblematic social sections coming together, creating a new 'groupist' category (Desmond and Emirbayer 2009 in Fox and Jones 2013, p. 390; Anthias 2013). Rather, we should acknowledge the socially and historically constructed character of the relevant social categories. Subsequently, we should go beyond noting a dependency, and dissect the process of intersecting. My study responds to these calls by focusing on the higher-educated men and women with an ethnic-minority background, trying to disclose how their experiences in relation to their ethnic-minority background are shaped by their class position.

#### **2.6 What's in the Name?**

The term integration is not unproblematic, as I mentioned before. Nor are the terms 'ethnic groups' and 'natives'. The term integration (and assimilation) is frequently used to denote general processes of incorporation, both in academic and practical settings, but it is hardly ever accompanied by an explicit definition. When terms such as integration or 'ethnic group' are used as concepts of analysis without explicit definitions, the distinction with concepts of practice is unclear. This is highly problematic because when these terms are used in daily practice, they are loaded with normative connotations and contribute to power inequalities. When we fail to define the terms 'integration' and 'assimilation' as concepts of analysis and/or blindly take over their usage in the practical realm, we do not unmask these underlying mechanisms and might even contribute to power inequalities. I argue here that the terms 'integration', 'assimilation', 'ethnic group', and 'natives' are unfit as concepts of analysis, and describe how I avoid the use of these terms.

In the language of politics and daily life in the Netherlands, 'integration' is seen as something inherently 'good'. When something is framed in terms of integration, it is positive and beyond dispute (Veldboer and Duyvendak 2001, p. 17). Apparently, the fact that 'integration' can be oppressive for some, and might reduce individual freedom or the freedom of minority groups, is often ignored. Furthermore, mainstream discourses ignore the wide variation in the meanings of integration, which sometimes even contradict each other. Neither is it debated whether 'integration' is beneficial in all cases. The uncritical use of the term 'assimilation' to neutrally denote processes of incorporation is even more problematic because of the strong normative and ideological usage that appears both in political discourses (at least in the Netherlands) and in (older) scholarly literature (Alba and Nee 1997, p. 827) that presents 'assimilation'—understood as complete adaptation to the society of residence and a loss of ethnic traits—as a desired outcome.

This point leads to another argument, namely that the analytical use of 'integration' without an explicit definition contributes to existing power imbalances between ethnic minorities and the ethnic majority. In scholarship, integration and assimilation are often regarded as the blurring of the boundary between an ethnic-minority category and the majority category, for example, as Alba and Nee define: 'the decline of an ethnic distinction and its corollary cultural and social differences' (2003, p. 11). This sounds balanced, as in principle both the minority and majority can contribute to the decline of ethnic dimensions. However, when describing such boundary decline, it is easy to overlook the fact that in the current neoliberal political climate, it is often only the minority individuals who are held accountable to their integration processes, thus for this decline. Hardly any demands are placed on natives for closing the gap (Veldboer and Duyvendak 2001; Veldboer et al. 2007). For example, residential concentration of ethnic minorities is evaluated differently than the concentration of 'natives'. It is frowned upon when ethnic minorities establish their own organizations, whereas the existence of completely 'white' organizations in ethnically-diverse societies like the Netherlands are rarely problematized.

This focus on the minority individual is partly a consequence of the 'neutrality' of members of the ethnic-majority category, of the so-called mainstream. The ethnic majority is seen as 'neutral', without ethnicity. This is reflected in the use of 'ethnic groups' to refer to ethnic-minority categories, which suggests that the ethnic-majority category is not an ethnic category. This 'neutral' status means that the majority's ideas, beliefs and attitudes are taken as self-evident and therefore function as the undebated yardstick against which minorities are held. This also means that the majority identity is strongly normalizing and minority categories are usually on the 'losing side' (Liebkind 1992, p. 156). The mere differentiation between a 'minority' and a 'majority' reflects a 'normative hierarchy which combines the idea of status and legitimacy, of numbers and of deviation from the norm' (ibid., p. 156). The fact that the majority category is unlabeled and unmarked implies that the majority does not form an explicit category, thus masking its position of power and contributing to the power imbalance. After all, it is hard to make the standards and power inequalities explicit when these cannot be questioned and are taken for granted (Verkuyten 2005, p. 59; Wekker 1996, p. 73). Furthermore, when a category is unmarked, individuals are judged on their individual merit. When one belongs to a marked category, suddenly (s)he is assumed to be similar to co-categorical individuals and not similar to inter-categorical individuals (Captain and Ghorashi 2001). There is much less awareness of the multiple sides and qualities of minority individuals. For example, whereas an ethnic-Dutch individual can strive to be a talented volleyball player, a nice neighbor, or a capable mayor, a Moroccan-Dutch individual is often primarily judged as a 'Moroccan' volleyball player, a 'Moroccan' neighbor, a 'Moroccan' mayor and measured primarily against stereotypical images of 'Moroccans'.

Another consequence of the 'neutrality' of the 'mainstream' is that the yardstick for integration is undefined and unclear, and hence is not questioned. Based on Alba and Nee (2003), Lindo argues that 'the measuring stick, the point of reference, is often indicated with vague vocabulary like "the society in general", "the mainstream" or "the middle class"' (2005, p. 12). In the Netherlands, with regard to sociocultural aspects in the last years, the character of 'the' Dutch identity has been strongly debated. This has not lead to unambiguous results, but nevertheless the proposition that such homogeneous Dutch identity does not exist has been loudly opposed.<sup>4</sup> In socioeconomic terms, there is an implicit demand to integrate into the 'middle class', whereby the integration of (children of) immigrants is evaluated against the yardstick of the Dutch average.

This is also the most common usage of socioeconomic integration in the literature on ethnicity and immigrant incorporation, which is 'equated with attainment of average or above average socioeconomic standing', rather than compared with the current statuses of population segments with similar socioeconomic backgrounds (Alba and Nee 1997, p. 835). How appropriate is it to use the socioeconomic population average as a frame of reference to assess the 'integration' of (children of) Moroccan and Turkish immigrants who once came to the Netherlands to work in low paid jobs (as, for example, is done in the Integration Report 2009 by Gijsberts and Dagevos)? Natives of the lower classes do not have to meet such expectations, as Thomson and Crul remark (2007, p. 1026): 'We rarely, if ever, hear that sections of the indigenous population are not integrated despite their own experience of poverty and deprivation'. Conversely, why then are immigrants with lower socioeconomic statuses considered as being 'not integrated'? This is a relevant issue, as matters of 'integration' in the Netherlands are often exclusively discussed for categories with below-average socioeconomic statuses at their moments of arrival. These are primarily people from Morocco, Turkey, Suriname, and Curacao who are aggregated under the label 'non-western immigrants'.<sup>5</sup> Comparing children of the former 'guest workers' with the ethnic-Dutch lower classes results in a fairer assessment of processes

<sup>4</sup>When the then-crown princess Máxima Zorreguita, herself an immigrant from Argentina who migrated to the Netherlands to marry the Dutch crown prince, in a 2007 speech remarked that in her search for 'the Dutch identity' she has not found any 'the' Dutch identity, this caused a lot of commotion. She was severely criticized for the remark. She delivered the speech at the event organized for the presentation of the WRR report 'Identification with the Netherlands' (*Identificatie met Nederland*) (Meurs 2007) (WRR: Scientific Council for Government Policy; *Wetenschappelijke Raad voor Regeringsbeleid*).

<sup>5</sup>In the Netherlands, discussions on integration are exclusively focused on the category of 'nonwestern immigrants', referring primarily to people with a Surinamese, Moroccan, Turkish, or Antillean background. In the Dutch context, it is self-evident that integration discussions do not focus on immigrants from, for example, the U.S., Germany, or Japan. The attribute 'non-western' is generally even omitted in these discussions, as well as a description of the particular categories that belong to this label. (Low-wage workers from Eastern Europe form a recent new category, which is also focus of discussions on integration).

of incorporation. It appears that immigrant children on average do not lag behind, but actually have relatively high achievements not only in the Netherlands (see e.g. Stevens et al. 2014; Gracia et al. 2014), but also elsewhere (Waldinger and Feliciano 2004; Kasinitz et al. 2008; Stepick and Stepick 2010).

These problems regarding to the term 'integration', and the portrayal of the second-generation Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch as newcomers who are in a process of 'integrating' make the concept 'integration' unfit to use as a concept of analysis in this research. Instead, I prefer to use the more neutral term 'incorporation' and more explicit terms such as 'socioeconomic mobility', 'socioeconomic advancement' or 'sociocultural adaptation'. I use these in a descriptive rather than a normative sense. I try to describe processes and mechanisms that are at play (including discursive and normative mechanisms), but I refrain from taking such a normative stance myself; I am not suggesting that children of immigrants *should* show advancement and adaptation.

The reflection on the middle class as the implicit norm is also important because it exposes a circularity in the Dutch construction of 'ethnic-minority categories' and their evaluation as not being fully integrated, at least in socioeconomic terms. This is a consequence of the selective application of 'ethnic-minority group' to categories that in general have a lower socioeconomic status (Rath 1991). In the Netherlands, the term 'ethnic minority' primarily refers to people with a non-western background who have lower socioeconomic positions. Strangely enough, immigrants from the U.S., Germany or Japan are not generally labeled as 'ethnic minorities', and these categories are not central to integration debates and integration policies. And, whereas people from the (former) colonies in the Caribbean fall under this category of ethnic minorities, immigrants from the former Dutch-Indies/Indonesia are categorized as 'western immigrants'. This shows that—at least in Dutch society—the perceived distance to the standard of the mainstream rather than a certain ethnic background leads to categorization as 'ethnic'. The fact that 'ethnic minorities' do not reach the standard, then, is not because of their ethnic and immigrant background, but is simply because of their categorization as (ethnic) minority. In my study, I do not refrain from using the term 'ethnic minority'. However, I hope to contribute to a more nuanced use of this terminology by emphasizing the intra-categorical variation and by focusing on those in higher socioeconomic positions.

Furthermore, I use labels that do not obscure the ethnicity of the ethnic majority. I use 'ethnic-minority group/category' and 'ethnic-minority identity' where terms like 'ethnic group' and 'ethnic identity' are commonly used. I also use 'ethnic majority' or 'ethnic Dutch' to refer to people whose parents are born in the Netherlands. I refrain from using the term 'native' to refer to ethnic Dutch, as this term is part of the nativist discourse and incorrectly excludes the children of immigrants who are born in the Netherlands and who therefore are also 'native' to the Netherlands. It is important to note that thinking in 'majority' or 'established' in some cases is obsolete. In many major cities, young children of the second generation are often more established in the cities than ethnic Dutch (Crul and Schneider 2010); their parents have lived there for a long time, and they themselves are born and raised there, whereas the ethnic-Dutch children often have parents who moved there from other parts of the country more recently. Sometimes, the ethnic majority is not even a majority anymore, at least in numbers, as has recently become reality in Amsterdam.

I also refrain from the use of the term 'host country'. This visitor analogy invokes images of temporality and suggests that, as 'guests', immigrants and their offspring should be modest and grateful for the offered hospitality (Ghorashi 2014). Instead, I use society of residence.

#### **2.7 Summary**

In my attempt to understand the ethnic and national identifications of secondgeneration social climbers, I first turned to the literature on processes of immigrant incorporation. I explained that the famous models of straight-line assimilation theory and segmented assimilation theory are not fully adequate to understand ethnic identification at the individual level. Literature on ethnic options and the theory developed by Bourdieu provide better angles for exploring individual dynamics. In the coming chapters, I zoom in on the experiences of higher-educated second-generation Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch. I examine how these second-generation climbers identify in ethnic terms and what this means to them (Chap. 5), why they identify in certain terms in specific social contexts (Chap. 6), and how these identifications develop over time (Chap. 7).

At the end of this book, I will be able to reflect on the meaning of ethnicity and ethnic identification in daily life for the participants based on my empirical results. As we have seen in this theoretical chapter, phenomena such as ethnicity and identity can be viewed from different ontological perspectives. In the social sciences, there is a common consensus on the idea that ethnic and national identities are social constructs. The State plays an important role in the creation of such categories and the (self-) labeling of people.

One of the problems with the constructivist perspective is that the focus on the dynamic, variable, and contextual character of ethnicity could make us underestimate the importance and substance of ethnicity in daily life. Nevertheless, the substantial effects of a phenomenon, such as ethnicity in daily life, do not mean we have to take objectivism as our analytical point of departure. A constructivist perspective does not necessarily preclude finding that a phenomenon is static, constant, and tangible. In my view, this makes a constructivist perspective the most suitable for academic study.

However, applying a constructivist perspective appears to be easier said than done. On the one hand, there is the trap of essentialism. Often, constructivist scholars unintentionally reproduce and contribute to essentialist views because they fail to distinguish their 'categories of analysis' from 'categories of practice' and unreflectively employ reified ideas of ethnicity and ethnic groups as these are used in political and general discourses. Furthermore, they often apply an 'ethnic lens' to a study, which can contribute to groupist thinking and to the (possibly inappropriate) prevalence of ethnic explanations. On the other hand we have the trap of ambiguity. The complex character of social phenomena makes it a real challenge to employ concepts in unambiguous ways, and the use of abstract concepts (such as identity and ethnicity) often confuses or conflates aspects that need to be kept distinct.

In order to avoid these two traps, I assembled an analytical toolkit containing five tools. The first is thinking in *practices of identification*, instead of thinking in terms of 'identity'. The second is the distinction between *self* -*identification and external identification* (being labeled or categorized by others), which enables the exposure of power inequalities and a study of the interaction between external structures and individual agency. In order to avoid groupist assumptions, the third tool is the separation of *category and group*. A social category (such as Moroccan Dutch) does not necessarily comprise a group, and members of the same category are not necessarily connected by sameness, interaction, and solidarity. Levels of groupness should be studied rather than assumed. The fourth tool is the distinction between *label and content*. Use of an identity label does not necessarily reflect an underlying set of cultural norms and practices. Also here, the connection between label and what it means for individuals should be studied rather than assumed. The last analytical tool is the idea of *intersectionality*. The idea that the various social dimensions of a person shape each other helps prevent groupist thinking and makes us attentive to intracategorical variations. My focus on higher-educated members of the second generation enables me to explore the intersectionality of class (education) and ethnicity.

#### **References**


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## **Chapter 3 A Mixed-Methods Approach**

*How was the study conducted?*

*How* you collect data affects *which* phenomena you will see, *how, where*, and *when* you will view them, and *what* sense you will make of them. (Charmaz 2006, p. 15, italics in original)

This chapter describes how I researched the identifications of second-generation Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch and shows the steps that brought me to the claims I make in this book. I first explain the used mixed methods approach and the connection with my ontological perspective (Sect. 3.1). In the subsequent sections, I describe the quantitative data collection (Sect. 3.2) and the qualitative approach (Sect. 3.3). The chapter concludes with a summary (Sect. 3.4).

#### **3.1 A Phenomenological Mixed-Methods Research Design**

Different research aims require different methodological approaches. In this case, we want to understand what ethnicity means for minority climbers and understand how, when, and why they identify in certain ways. Such phenomenological and interpretivist study requires an open, 'qualitative' method, which is not pre-structured by the researcher and enables free exploration of the phenomenon's complexities. The aim here is *not* to draw conclusions that apply to large populations with specified levels of certainty and not to separate the phenomenon from individual experiences and interpretations as in structured or 'quantitative' studies. Rather, a phenomenological study 'describes the meaning for several individuals of their *lived experiences* of a concept or a phenomenon' (Creswell 2007, p. 57, italics in original). The purpose is to extract from their individual stories a cohesive description of the essence of the experience for these individuals (Creswell 2007).

The open and interpretive approach that leads to the development of in-depth understanding of the experiences of individuals only allows for data collection from a limited number of individuals. In trying to understand a specific phenomenon or certain human experiences as they make sense to those who live it, between 10 and 20 interviews, or even fewer, might suffice (Dukes 1984, p. 200; Bleijenbergh 2013, pp. 10–11). Polkinghorne recommends a sample size of 5–25 individuals (1989, in Creswell 2007, p. 61). The phenomenological description developed in this book is based on 14 interviewees.

Because of the limited number of cases, a phenomenology does not necessarily present a story that applies beyond the interviewees. Nevertheless, the relevance of a study often does extend beyond the study. Larsson gives an intelligible overview of the various forms of 'generalization' of qualitative, interpretivist studies (2009). For example, a study—even a very small-scale study—has broader relevance when findings undermine common assumptions about a phenomenon and nuance an established perspective; Chap. 5 includes an illustration of this kind of generalization.

In addition, for many qualitative studies, the 'act' of generalization primarily lies with the audience instead of the author (also see Flyvbjerg 2004). The readers assess the relevance of the study's findings for situations with which they are familiar. This is why many qualitative studies, including this one, include 'thick descriptions'. Rich details enable readers to recognize parallels and differences between the study and other situations, and to judge the applicability of the study's findings for situations they are familiar with. The detailed description of the Dutch context in Chap. 4 is also an example of such 'thick description' that helps the reader assess the relevance of this case for other contexts. The researcher can support the audience by articulating aspects of the study's context that appeared crucial for the studied phenomenon, as well as by suggesting in which situations similar patterns are likely to occur; I provide such suggestions in Chap. 8.

The relevance of qualitative studies furthermore works though 'theoretical generalization', or 'analytical generalization' (Bryman 2008). Larsson's reflection on what he calls 'recognition of patterns' (2009) helps understand this form of generalization. A qualitative description of a specific phenomenon (as experienced by some individuals) provides others with a lens for looking at the world. The interpretations presented by a study invite readers 'to notice something they did not see before' (p. 33); to recognize particular patterns. The descriptive results of qualitative research form 'interpretational tools for identifying patterns in the everyday world and making better sense of the world around us' (p. 34). This is what this study offers: a description and interpretation of the experiences and identificational processes of 14 Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch climbers that could possibly be found in similar form in other contexts. This is also how I build on other literature: other studies offered perspectives from which I approached my own data and which helped me interpret the data.

Although the contribution of this study primarily lies in the theoretical generalization, at certain places in the book I articulate the broader relevance in more direct ways. Firstly, in all chapters, I mention parallels with the literature. The resemblance of my data—and of the phenomenological description that emerged from it—with other studies, across groups and contexts, indicates that the findings are relevant beyond this study. Secondly, on a few occasions in Chap. 7, I point out similarities between the qualitative stories and the survey data. When a pattern that emerges from the individual stories mirrors a pattern in the answers to the survey questions, this suggests similarity in the underlying experiences or worldviews.

Combining qualitative and quantitative methods can be problematic. Generally, research with large samples, which uses structured research methods, is grounded in the perspective that there is a social reality 'out there'—a reality that exists outside individuals and which is sought to be 'accurately' exposed through methods that are 'completely objective' (Holstein and Gubrium 1995). In these studies, usually surveys, all included aspects (variables) are predefined by the researcher. Opposite this objectivist and positivist perspective stands the interpretivist perspective, which is the primary perspective of this book. Interpretivism—which is connected with the constructivist view—focuses on the ways in which individuals interpret the world (Bryman 2008). More precisely: interpretivist studies access the world through the interpretations of individuals. Getting to know the world from people's own perspectives requires an open, unstructured, or qualitative, method. The objectivist perspective is dominant in ideas about 'good science' and what is seen as 'proof'; this is the case in much of the academic world, in everyday reasoning in the media, and in political argumentations.

That qualitative and quantitative methods are generally connected with two different perspectives does not mean that they cannot be combined (Bryman 2008; Johnson and Onwuegbuzie 2004; Niglas 2010). In this study, I combine in-depth, semi-structured interviews with survey data. In the use of the survey data, I take a middle way between the two epistemological perspectives. Although I use the survey data to examine the presence of broader societal patterns, I only use these findings in tandem with the qualitative results, which are crucial for the interpretation of the quantitative figures. Because respondents were offered predefined answering options, I am very cautious in the interpretation of the answers to the survey questions. Particularly for less concrete questions—such as 'To what extent to you feel Dutch?—I am hesitant to assume that the respondents' answers reflect static, substantive, 'factual' dispositions. I see these answers as nothing more than answers to a question, given at a certain moment in a certain context. In Chap. 5 we will see that the quantitative findings undermine the common 'thick' view on identifications; it is a result that asks for a qualitative phenomenological exploration of the phenomenon of ethnic self-identification.

#### **The Mixed-Methods Design of this Study**

In this mixed-methods design, semi-structured, in-depth interviews with 14 university-educated second-generation Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch form the main data source. These qualitative data (QL) are supplemented by quantitative (QN) data gathered through a large-scale structured survey conducted among 1500 respondents with a Moroccan-, Turkish- or ethnic-Dutch background in the context of another study. Before I discuss the separate approaches in the next section (Sect. 3.2 and 3.3), this current section contains the overall research design, including a brief description of how the research focus developed. To describe the relation between the QL and QN data, I use the model as explained by Leech and Onwuegbuzie (2009, see also Creswell and Plano Clark 2011; Niglas 2009), who distinguish various main choices in a mixed methods design, which include:


I also use the typology of Greene et al. (1989), who identify five purposes of combining different methods.1 These purposes for mixing are:


I started my research with the analysis of the quantitative data for a very practical reason: these data were already available when I started my project. In fact, I initially focused on the explanation of social mobility and its relation to the social context and identifications. The data seemed highly useful for this purpose, as they contained many details about educational trajectories, familial backgrounds, social contexts, and identifications of large numbers of second-generation individuals that enabled the exploration of associations between the various factors. Because I was not only interested in mere correlations but also in understanding processes of social mobility as experienced by individuals, I used a less-structured approach that allowed to me learn more about the complexities of people's experiences and their trajectories. Aiming for triangulation, I conducted 14 in-depth interviews to explore the same theme from a different angle. I tried to understand what made second-generation individuals socially mobile and how this trajectory related to social contexts and identifications. In the analysis phase, I became more and more triggered by the data on

<sup>1</sup>Various typologies are mentioned in the literature. Some authors present typologies of mixed methods studies based on technical characteristics, such as the sequence of the methods and the emphasis placed (e.g. Caracelli and Greene 1997; Leech and Onwuegbuzie 2009; Teddlie and Tashakkori 2009). Personally, I do not find these very useful in designing a study because the technical design is not a consideration in itself, but should arise from the purpose of the study. Other authors, like Creswell and Plano Clark (2011), give a typology that mix purposes and designs. I find their typology confusing because the options they sketch are too rigid and limited.

<sup>2</sup>Greene et al. (1989) refer to this purpose as 'complementarity', but I prefer the label clarification to clearly distinguish this purpose from the purpose of expansion.

identification. In the survey data, I noticed that the respondents' answers to questions about ethnic identification were not associated with cultural practices in the way I initially expected (see Chap. 5). Likewise, in the in-depth interviews, what fascinated me most were topics related to identifications and the development thereof. When participants reflected on their positions in various social contexts and their ethnic and national identifications, their accounts were full of ambiguities, emotions, and shifting positions (called 'narrative shifting', see Holstein and Gubrium 1995, p. 55), which continuously intrigued me (see Chap. 6). That is how my purpose shifted from explaining social mobility to understanding processes of ethnic identification.

The phases of the *data collection* can be sketched as follows.

This scheme does not reflect the entire setup of the research. In the *data analysis* phase, the two data sources were used in various compositions, with various aims. For Chap. 5, which explores how strongly the second generation identifies with the ethnic and national labels, as well as the meaning of these identifications, the datasets are used in the following way (the use of upper and lower case reflects the emphasis placed on the different methods).

In Chap. 5, the outcomes of the statistical analyses on ethnic identification ask for clarification. The qualitative data are used to understand the quantitative findings and the two steps focus on the same parts of the phenomenon.

*How strongly do they idenƟfy with the two labels? What does it mean when they idenƟfy in a certain way?*

*the social context?*

Chap. 6, which explores the contextual character of the participants' selfidentifications, is entirely based on the data of the in-depth interviews.

Chap. 7, which deals with the temporal aspect of social contexts and identifications, relies primarily on the interview data. Some of the findings are backed up with findings from the survey data to indicate the generalizability of certain results. As the quantitative data are used to understand the breadth of the qualitative findings, here the purpose of mixing is again for clarification.

*findings?*

*over Ɵme?*

#### **3.2 Quantitative Approach. Use of the TIES Survey Data**

The survey data were collected in 2006 and 2007 in the context of the international TIES project. This project focused on The Integration of the European Second Generation (TIES) and was coordinated by the Institute of Migration and Ethnic Studies (IMES) of the University of Amsterdam and the Dutch Interdisciplinary Demographic Institute (NIDI). The project studied the incorporation of children of immigrants who were born and educated in their countries of residence, in 15 cities across eight European countries. For the Netherlands, the TIES project is the first large-scale study focusing specifically on second-generation youths (Crul and Heering 2008). The description of the data collection is based on Groenewold (2008) and Groenewold and Lessard-Phillips (2012). The Dutch segment of the survey was conducted face-to-face among 1505 respondents aged between 18 and 35 years in the cities of Amsterdam and Rotterdam. The respondents were equally spread over three ethnic categories: second-generation Moroccan Dutch, second-generation Turkish Dutch (at least one parent born in Morocco or Turkey) and a control group of ethnic Dutch (both parents born in the Netherlands). The questionnaire contained detailed questions about a range of themes, including educational trajectory, employment, household, neighbourhood, parental background (education, employment, and migration history), language use, family relations, identifications, sociocultural practices, attitudes, religiosity and discrimination. Data collection and processing were carried out by the survey organisation Bureau Veldkamp.

#### **Sampling Procedure**

The aim of the Dutch survey was to obtain statistically-representative information on second-generation Turkish and Moroccan Dutch in Amsterdam and Rotterdam (Groenewold 2008). The sampling was carried out in various steps. First, neighborhoods were sampled. In the two cities, 47 of the 167 neighborhoods were sampled. This number was based on a cluster size of 30 (ten respondents per ethnic category) and a compromise between having enough respondents per cluster and having enough clusters. To get an optimal spread of the respondents over neighborhoods with different concentrations of second-generation Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch, the selection-probability for each neighborhood was proportional to the number of residents with Moroccan and Turkish backgrounds. The sampling frame only included neighborhoods with residents from all three ethnic categories; a few small neighborhoods were excluded. Subsequently, individual respondents were selected from


**Table 3.1** TIES respondents (size of ethnic groups per city)

the sampled neighborhoods. Because of the expected non-response, initially 6000 addresses were sampled from the municipal population registers (GBA)—four times the minimum effective sample size of 1500—of which 4999 addresses were valid. The GBA (*Gemeentelijke Basis Administratie*) contains information about all legal residents in the municipality, including address, gender, date of birth, country of birth parents, and nationality. Later, another 271 additional addresses were sampled to increase the numbers of respondents. Ethnic-Dutch respondents were sampled from the same neighborhoods in similar numbers as the second-generation respondents. Eventually, 1505 individuals were interviewed (see the size of the three ethnic categories of respondents in the two cities in Table 3.1). The overall response rate was 30%; it was slightly higher for the ethnic Dutch than for the Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch. Low response rates are common for young respondents with immigrant backgrounds. A comparison of the population and the sample suggests that the non-response bias is only small (For further information on the methodology and the broader project see: Crul and Heering 2008; Crul et al. 2012; Groenewold 2008; Groenewold and Lessard-Phillips 2012, and the webpage of the TIES project: www.tiesproject.eu).

#### **Data Collection**

After a pilot phase during which the questions were tested and adjusted, the surveys were conducted between May 2006 and July 2007 by 83 experienced and trained interviewers. Most of them had an ethnic-Dutch background. Invitation letters were sent to explain the study's objectives and announce the visit of the interviewers. Participants received ten euros for their participation, which was also mentioned in the letter.

The interviewers encountered various problems, such as: selected individuals who did not live at the registered address, inaccessibility of apartment buildings, and suspicious or hostile individuals. Also the duration of the interview—which took one hour and fifteen minutes on average—was sometimes experienced as problematic, as was also the sensitive nature of some questions. Interviewers sometimes skipped questions or conducted the second part of the survey on paper that could be filled out at later time. To reduce non-response, reminder letters were sent, the participation fee was increased, and the interviewers were trained in persuasion techniques.

#### **Reflection on the Use of the Data**

The use of the statistical data in this book illustrates that statistical analysis of structured data is not necessarily based on an objectivist and positivist perspective, nor does it necessarily focus on testing strictly-defined hypotheses. From an interpretivist perspective, the use of concepts that are predefined by the researcher (variables) is somewhat problematic as this ignores, or even overrules, understandings of the people themselves. This study illustrates how quantitative data can be used within a study that primarily holds an interpretivist view. In Chap. 5, statistical analyses are used to deconstruct an objectivist and groupist conception of identification by showing that identification with an ethnic label does not necessarily reflect a specific coherent cultural content. In Chap. 7, quantitative data help us reveal the intersectional character of education level and ethnic background, nuancing the groupist idea that Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch are more conservative than ethnic Dutch. However, the data are also used in more objectivist ways, for example in Chap. 4, where I present a descriptive comparison of Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch sociocultural practices, and in Chap. 7, where I present the demographic characteristics of the respondents' social networks.

The survey was carried out in 2006 among respondents between 18 and 35 years old, whereas most of the in-depth interviews were conducted in 2011 with participants who were over 40 years old. Nevertheless, the strong parallels between the findings imply that these differences are not problematic and that the qualitative data still enhance our understanding of the patterns in the quantitative data. This is aligned with the description in Chap. 4, which shows that Dutch context did not abruptly change in this period.

#### **3.3 Qualitative Approach. In-depth Interviews**

This section on qualitative data collection and analysis is relatively detailed. The reason is that qualitative data collection and analysis are much less straightforward than quantitative approaches. Not only are qualitative approaches less structured, there is also a lack of standard guidelines for reporting about qualitative approaches (Guba and Lincoln 2005). This requires a relatively detailed justification of the approach. In addition, I find it important to open the black box and exemplify a possible approach for qualitative data analysis.

In the qualitative tradition, there is not even full agreement on the criteria for evaluating research that could provide guidance for writing a sound methodological justification (Bryman 2001, p. 270; Guba and Lincoln 2005; Silverman 2006). I agree with the view that producing valid knowledge is not about uncovering 'the truth', but obtaining and presenting findings that are credible (Silverman 2006, p. 281). According to Riessman, it comes down to the question: why should we believe it? (2008, p. 184). I agree with Silverman (2006) that we can evaluate the credibility of qualitative research using the same core criteria as in quantitative research: validity and reliability. I would say that research findings are credible when they are likely to accurately represent the social phenomena to which they refer; in other words: when they are *valid* (see Hammersley 1990 in Silverman 2006, p. 289). Therefore, it is important to show that the findings are not accidental results shaped solely by the circumstances of the research. In other words: the findings need to be *reliable* (see Kirk and Miller 1986 in Silverman 2006, p. 282). In order to judge the reliability of the findings, it is crucial that the research process is *transparent*; that it is clear how the data were obtained, what the influence of the research setting was, and how the conclusions were developed from the data through processes of interpretation (Silverman 2006, p. 282). This means that bias, which cannot be avoided in any study, needs to be understood and explained (Small 2009, p. 14). As Riessman argues: good research is credible or persuasive when the researcher demonstrates that 'the data are genuine, and analytical interpretations of them are plausible, reasonable, and convincing' and when the researcher's theoretical claims 'are supported with evidence from informants' accounts, negative cases are included, and alternative interpretations are considered' (2008, p. 191). The report of a scientific study should be transparent in how the final claims are developed, based on a 'trail of evidence', consisting of data, analyses, and interpretations (Riessman 2008, p. 188). This transparency is particularly important for less-structured approaches, in which findings are more strongly shaped by circumstances and by the decisions and the personality of the researcher, hence this relatively extensive section.

Following Holstein and Gubrium (1995), I see an interview as an 'active interview', as something that is created in a particular setting and is the result of a situated interaction between the interviewer and the research participant. The situated character of the narrative does not mean, however, that the interview is created from scratch during the interview or that the respondent is making things up (p. 28). Instead, a story is created that is 'true to life'—faithful to subjectively meaningful experience (p. 28). To assess what the participants' words mean, we should consider the context of how the narrative came into being. I do this by carefully describing the interviews and the analytical steps, and by reflecting on my personal role as interviewer and researcher during the interviews and the interpretive process. In the empirical Chap. 5–7, I show how the conclusions of this research are tied to the empirical data. In this section, I further discuss how I approached the qualitative data collection and analysis.

#### **Data Collection**

I describe successively the selection of the participants, the interview, and the processing of the interviews.

#### *Selection of the Participants*

I conducted 14 interviews with socially-mobile second-generation Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch men and women. The criteria for selection were that they were born in the Netherlands from parents (at least one) who migrated from Morocco or Turkey to the Netherlands, or that they arrived here with their parents at a very young age, that is, before entering the educational system. In addition, they had to have graduated from university and hold jobs matching their education level at the time of the interview. As I intended for them to reflect on their trajectory of mobility, I selected people who were not at the very beginning of their professional careers and were over 30 years old. In the end, two male participants with Moroccan backgrounds did not fit these criteria, as one had come to the Netherlands at an older age and one had not attended university but had graduated from higher vocational training (*HBO*); however, as they nevertheless contributed to my findings and their stories did not substantially deviate from the other stories, I did not exclude them. As my final focus excluded individuals with a mixed ethnic background, I did exclude the fifteenth interview, with Nathalie, a participant with a Moroccan-Polish background.

Ten of the interviews were conducted with Moroccan Dutch (of which three were female) and four with Turkish Dutch (two female and two male participants) (Table 3.2). I conducted four of the interviews in 2006, for a previous project on ethnic identification, while the rest were conducted in 2011. That the context did not change that much between these years was reflected in the interviews, which did not radiate a different Zeitgeist.<sup>3</sup> All participants were in their thirties or early forties at the time of the interview. This meant that they were born shortly after (or before) their families migrated to the Netherlands, which makes them what I call members of the 'early' second generation. Some were in relationships (mostly married), and others were single. Some had children. They lived all over the Netherlands and grew up all over the Netherlands, in cities as well as in villages. Several worked as consultants in various sectors, some ran companies they (co-) owned, one worked in the medical field, and others worked as researchers, technical engineers, and teachers. All participants spoke Dutch fluently. Most of the participants did not have any accent that revealed their immigrant backgrounds. Nearly all participants had—in my view—a 'professional' appearance. They were dressed according to standard business codes, radiated confidence and reflexivity and formulated their thoughts with a certain ease and determination. Although nearly all participants call themselves Muslim, their level of religiosity varied. It seemed to me that for three of them, their religiosity was more important emotionally and for providing practical guidelines than for the rest. To protect the anonymity of participants, I do not connect the various personal characteristics with each other and do not create detailed profiles of the individual participants. I furthermore use pseudonyms and altered some factual details.

To avoid selecting participants *based on* their ethnic identifications and thus selecting on the dependent variable, I did not use organizations with ethnic signatures as starting points for recruiting. I recruited most participants via my own (primarily ethnic-Dutch) private network, covering various professional branches and various parts of the Netherlands. I recruited a few participants via my professional academic network. Furthermore, I avoided an emphasis on ethnicity in the announcement of the interview topic, which I formulated as 'the social mobility of children of immigrants'. Nonetheless, all participants (partially) identified in ethnic terms. As participation

<sup>3</sup>I asked the 2006 participants for permission to use their interviews in this project as well. One I was unable to reach again, but decided to use the interview for the analysis, but include only a few quotes in the book in a decontextualized way, without any other personal information.


**Table 3.2** Interview participants (pseudonyms; ethnic backgrounds and gender)

In chronological order of the interviews

was voluntary, a certain bias could not be completely avoided. In explaining their willingness to participate, most participants mentioned the importance of contributing to the Dutch debate, to have their voices heard and challenge negative stereotypes. This implies that the participants have a relatively strong social involvement.

#### *The Interview*

The interviews were semi-structured, lasted between one and four hours, and were all conducted in Dutch. All interviews were recorded on audiotape, except for one, in which the participant objected to the recording. A translated, English version of the topic list is included in Appendix A.

The first part of the interviews did not explicitly focus on ethnic identity. I started by asking the participants to describe their educational trajectory chronologically—including familial background and educational trajectories of siblings—focusing on social environments and the role of social others. This provided a detailed picture of the composition of the various social contexts they moved in (in characteristics of gender, class, and ethnic background) and how they experienced their social relations and positions in these various contexts without the participants interpreting these situations through the lens of ethnic identification. By focusing on the process of social mobility instead of ethnic and national identifications in the initial stage of the interview, I followed one of Fox and Jones' suggestions (2013) to avoid the trap of unwillingly applying an ethnic lens (see Sect. 2.2) by focusing on the 'everyday' as a means to explore practices beyond ethnic practices. The focus on trajectories of social mobility had a similar effect. When we discussed the theme of feeling 'Moroccan', 'Turkish' and 'Dutch' later in the interview, many details had already been discussed, which we could then use to reflect on expressions of ethnic identification. (Later, in the analysis, experiences that had been formulated in terms of 'feeling different' and 'feeling similar' and 'feeling normal' helped me understand the role of ethnic, Dutch, and other identifications.)

Throughout all of the interviews, I was uneasy asking about them feeling Moroccan, Turkish, and Dutch, about ethnic backgrounds and the role of ethnicity. I feared that this focus made me contribute to a discourse that presupposed the relevance of ethnicity for individuals with an ethnic-minority background, and I therefore wanted to avoid the impression that I myself assumed that ethnicity is always greatly relevant. However, the participants' responses to these questions were insightful. As I will show in the coming chapters, in some responses participants did not problematize these questions at all, whereas in other responses they challenged the underlying views.

In many of the interviews, I felt that my own educational and professional background contributed to the mutual rapport. In only a few cases, I felt that my gender played a role and enhanced the rapport with other female participants, when we discussed the theme of being a gender minority in educational or professional settings. I did not feel that my gender influenced the interaction with other (male or female) participants. I do not know how the fact that I did not have the same ethnic background affected the situation. I can imagine that this made the participants hold back in relating negative experiences, as they might have wanted to portray an extra-positive image to challenge stereotypes that are related to their ethnic category. Nevertheless, this effect seemed limited, as participants often did reflect on relationships with coethnics, and also mentioned disagreements and struggles in what seemed to be quite an honest way.

#### **Data Analysis**

As I argued before, in order to enhance the credibility of the research findings, it is important to show how the claims I make in this book relate to the empirical data. In this section I describe the analytical steps I took to develop the themes as discussed in this book. I believe that it is important to also include the more initial, explorative analytical phases, as these are crucial steps in the process of meaning-making, in the interpretation of the data. The research log, in which I kept track of my analytical steps as well as my considerations and confusions, not only helped me retrace my analytical steps, but—like Riessman suggested (2008, p. 191)—also fostered my reflexivity and awareness. The challenge here is to offer an overview that elucidates the process but is also concise. I start with the transcription phase, proceed to the explorative stage of open coding and memo writing, and conclude with a description of the main analyses.

#### *Transcriptions*

However straightforward it sounds to make a transcription, 'the "same" stretch of talk can be transcribed very differently' (Riessman 2008, p. 29). As I increasingly wanted to attend not only to the 'what' of the interview, but also to the 'how' (Holstein and Gubrium 1995), I improved the first transcriptions several times, every time including more details on the 'how' of the interviews. Following Gillham's suggestion (2005), I included my own speech (including my questions, probes, and audible reactions) and 'paralinguistic' features (such as hesitations or emphases) when they seemed important for the interpretation. I also included speech repetitions, such as 'you know', because these often appear to express emotions such as unease or agitation. I transcribed all the interviews myself, as I agree with the view that transcription is an interpretive practice (Gillham 2005; Riessman 2008). After the transcriptions, I listened to the interview again and added interpretative notes, using the qualitative data analysis software MaxQDA. An example of a brief interpretive note, called a 'memo' in MaxQDA, is the following memo I attached to Karim's words about his disappointingly low secondary school advice:

Memo: These sentences already radiate frustration. (He returns to this theme later in the interview). And that he mentions that in the end his graduation was 'with honors' sounds like a redress, illustrating how ridiculous the previous advice was. It sounds like 'I told you so!' (Memo dd. 13 August 2012, translation MS)

#### *Exploring the Data: Open Coding and Memo Writing*

As I did not want to force any structure upon the data by using preconceived categories, I started with a bottom-up coding approach, conforming with the principles of Grounded Theory (Corbin and Strauss 2008). I started with the process of open coding and assigned codes to text segments that reflected the theme, meaning, or emotions of the participant's words or more processual aspects, such as instances of reflexivity. I created memos about the content of the specific codes. The coding resulted in 120 codes and nearly 1800 coded segments.

To make sense of these codes, I divided the codes into four categories: 'arrear and success,' 'identification, ethnicity and social relations', 'life phases', and 'other'. I then explored the relationships by grouping the subcodes that were similar in meaning or theme and explored how the various themes connected to each other, trying to piece together a diagram that reflected a coherent argument. This sorting exercise invited me to play with the data but did not lead to an unambiguous, coherent, innovative diagram and argument. While searching for coherent arguments and trends in the data, I tried to be perceptive of variations and negative examples, as suggested by Charmaz (2006, p. 102) and Corbin and Strauss (2008, p. 84).

The numerous memos I wrote, following the approach of Corbin (Corbin and Strauss 2008, see also Charmaz 2006, Chap. 4) turned out to be most useful in furthering the meaning-making process. In the entire project, I wrote 521 memos, which were attached to codes or text segments. I found that extensive memo-writing enhanced my insight by helping me disentangle complexities in the data and further my thinking on issues I did not understand right away. I used the memos both to describe the ideas behind the developed codes and also to explain why I found certain expressions intriguing; what I found surprising or confusing, and what confirmed my hunches; and how participants' experiences or interpretations paralleled or contradicted each other. The following memo, assigned to a specific interview segment and connected to the codes 'reluctant to use ethnicity/ethnic explanations' and 'being Dutch, Moroccan, Turkish', illustrates how I used the writing of a memo when I was confused:

Memo: Suddenly, here she seems very resistant to categorization in ethnic categories. Why? I feel it fits her cynical outlook on the world. Why then does her resistance surprise me? That is because earlier in the interview she did talk about not-being-Dutch, and being-Turkish herself. So, she does employ such categorizing language herself. But now it suddenly frustrates her. I think she might be afraid that such approaches are not constructive – that they too strongly reflect the exclusivist thinking of the dominant discourse. Either way, she is critical every time – in reaction to nearly everything happening in the Netherlands, and to nearly everything I say. (Memo dd. 28 September 2012, translation MS)

#### *Advancing the Analysis*

Three analytical steps furthered my thinking on the themes and arguments in the data. The first was to combine all memos that were connected to the codes within the main theme 'identification, ethnicity and social relations': 70 at that stage. This collection of reflections formed the basis for a document in which I described various mechanisms and concepts that emerged from the interviews (using labels such as 'practices of in- and exclusion', 'process of developing pride', 'the role of social others' and 'categorization resistance'), which I discussed in various versions with various colleagues.

The second step was an analysis of the social contexts, inspired by Corbin and Strauss (2008, Chap. 10). For each interview, I created an overview of the various contexts that were mentioned (such as family (parents and siblings), neighborhood, local coethnic community, primary school, secondary school, university, work, partner, peers), including the participants' evaluations of these contexts. Obviously, social contexts differed per life phase, but how participants positioned themselves also showed development.

This development explains why I got stuck when using the grounded theory approach the way that I did. As grounded theory approaches invite the use of text segments in fractured, decontextualized ways, it is easy to lose narrative aspects of the interview (Mishler 1999, p. 23). Instead, 'narrative analysis' attempts to keep the 'story' intact, and attends to sequences and the personal interaction in the interview setting (Riessman 2008). The idea of narrative analysis led me to pay more attention to developments and mechanisms, as well as arguments constructed by the participant. I looked for words that indicated a specific relation between two parts of a narrative (since, due, when, because, results in) and words that were indicative of temporality and change (initially, gradually, current, 'now I feel…', 'this has become…', 'I have learnt') (see Corbin and Strauss 2008, p. 83). This way of looking also enabled me to notice ambiguities within interviews, as participants at times seemed to contradict themselves. As Chaps. 6 and 7 show, this attention to ambiguities and temporality appeared very valuable for the further crystallization of my findings.

The third step, in which I employed the idea of narrative analysis, focused on 'processes'. Again, I was particularly inspired by the ideas of Corbin and Strauss. They developed a perspective to help the researcher identify the role of context and link context to process and outcome (2008, p. 89). In the transcripts, I searched for narrative chains consisting of (a) conditions, (b) interactions and emotions, and (c) consequences. I wrote a memo on every such process/chain, outlining the specific conditions (triggers, context, and causes) and responses (emotions, actions, reactions, results, or aimed results). Per interview, I coded between 12 and 51 text segments, which I finally classified (and re-classified) into three categories that emerged from the data:


3. 'Friends': 29 segments that I identified as processes relating to people who are considered friends, regardless of their ethnic background, and to partners.

Per category I considered the various relevant actors, triggers, effects, and reactions. This led to detailed descriptions about the range of interactions and responses in different interactional contexts, which formed the basis for Chap. 6.

#### *A More Structured Approach for Chap. 5*

The analysis of the qualitative data for Chap. 5 was more straightforward. Based on the outcomes of the statistical analyses, I analyzed how the participants described their identification as Moroccan or Turkish or Dutch. I retrieved the 48 text segments that were coded 'being Dutch, Moroccan, Turkish'. I developed thematic subcodes, such as 'language', 'attitudes' or 'bond with the country'. I also looked into the combinations of these themes per participant, and I considered if the use of these themes noticeably varied between the Moroccan and Turkish Dutch and between men and women.

#### **3.4 Summary**

This phenomenological mixed methods study of the identifications of Dutch social climbers of Moroccan and Turkish descent is based on in-depth interviews, which are combined with survey data collected in the context of another study. Both the qualitative and quantitative data were used within an interpretivist perspective. Nevertheless, I described the quantitative data collection according to the standards that are common in positivist research traditions. For example, I did not reflect on how the context of the data collection might influence the findings. The practical reason is that I was not involved in the collection of the survey data and that I base my description on the reports of others.

The description of the qualitative approach is more elaborate than that of the quantitative approach and includes discussions of my role as an interviewer, my perspective on the interview data as empirical evidence, and the processes of making sense of the data. The reason is that less-structured approaches by definition lack high levels of standardization. For reasons of credibility and transparency, qualitative methods require a detailed presentation of the 'chain of evidence', showing how the data were gathered and how the findings follow from the data.

#### **References**

Bleijenbergh, I. (2013). *Kwalitatief onderzoek in organisaties*. Den Haag: Boom Lemma. Bryman, A. (2001). *Social research methods* (1st ed.). Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Bryman, A. (2008). *Social research methods* (3rd ed.). Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Caracelli, V., & Greene, J. (1997). Crafting mixed-method evaluation designs. In J. Greene & J. Caracelli (Eds.),*Advances in mixed-method evaluation: The challenges and benefits of integrating diverse paradigms* (pp. 19–32). San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.


**Open Access** This chapter is licensed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/), which permits use, sharing, adaptation, distribution and reproduction in any medium or format, as long as you give appropriate credit to the original author(s) and the source, provide a link to the Creative Commons license and indicate if changes were made.

The images or other third party material in this chapter are included in the chapter's Creative Commons license, unless indicated otherwise in a credit line to the material. If material is not included in the chapter's Creative Commons license and your intended use is not permitted by statutory regulation or exceeds the permitted use, you will need to obtain permission directly from the copyright holder.

## **Chapter 4 The Dutch Integration Landscape**

*What does the societal context of the Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch immigrants and their children look like?*

As in many other countries since the start of this millennium, Dutch integration politics has seen a significant turn from a relative tolerance of diversity to an 'assimilationist' or 'culturalist' intolerance of cultural diversity. This evolving political landscape forms the backdrop of the lives of the second generation that I studied. Their identifications are hard to apprehend without knowing about the culturalist turn and the change in the tone of voice that affected the early second-generation Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch since early adulthood. I discuss the changing political landscape in the first section of this chapter (Sect. 4.1). Additionally, to understand the second generation's social relations and struggles, it is essential to know about their immigration background and their evolving socioeconomic and sociocultural positions in the Netherlands, which I describe in the second Sect. (4.2). The chapter concludes with a summary (Sect. 4.3).

#### **4.1 The Dutch Integration Context: Voices and Policies Over Time**

In this section, I will describe how a strongly exclusivist 'culturalism' has ascended, claiming that 'the Dutch culture and identity'—defined in terms of progressiveness—should be defended against immigrants and their presumed illiberal, intolerant, traditional, and non-secular cultures and religions (Uitermark 2012; Uitermark et al. 2014). This development parallels the situation in many other countries that have seen the popularity of populist parties grow in the last decennia. The Turkish Dutch, and particularly the Moroccan Dutch, both with Muslim backgrounds, have been the primary targets. In the Netherlands, this culturalism is accompanied by a new-realist discursive style, characterized by a bold 'frankness' and 'the nerve to break taboos' (Prins 2002). To elucidate the significance of the change, I describe this emerging discourse and its resonance in a relatively detailed way, including the changing themes that the integration politics center on, the shifting demands placed on immigrants and their offspring, and the monumental change in tone. Before discussing the figureheads of the emerging culturalist discourse and the culturalist resonance with mainstream actors and integration policies, I first briefly describe the recent history of Dutch politics.

#### **A History of Pragmatism Rather than Multiculturalism**

Roughly until the second half of the 1980s, the Netherlands was relatively tolerant of ethnic and religious diversity. As a result, the Netherlands was renowned for its multiculturalism, but this view predominantly misperceives the underlying reasons for this tolerance (Duyvendak and Scholten 2011, 2012). Rather than expressing a multicultural ideology that values and nurtures cultural diversity, this tolerance was based on widespread pragmatism. This pragmatism was a legacy of the Dutch system of pillarization, in which various ideological segments were institutionally and socially separated (Uitermark 2012). Pillarization started to decline in the late 1960s, but the Dutch *poldermodel* remained, characterized by compromise, consultation, and accommodation rather than confrontation. This *poldermodel* had become ingrained in the Dutch civil sphere (2012). This model was reflected in an approach to integration that did not emerge from ideological bases but was driven by finding solutions that were practical and efficient (Scholten 2011; Uitermark 2012). When workers from Morocco and Turkey arrived in the Netherlands in the late Sixties and Seventies, and when their families arrived ten years later, it was generally assumed that their migration would be temporary, so immigrant policies were directed towards facilitating their return. In view of the prospected return to Morocco and Turkey, the retention of their cultural identities and group structures was promoted and supported.

When in the 1980s it appeared that many of the immigrants would stay permanently, the goal of the integration policy shifted from facilitating return to socioeconomic participation and the prevention of sociocultural segregation (Scholten 2011). This did not lead to an adaption of the integration instruments. Group-specific facilities were maintained or supported, as the cultivation of minority language skills and identities were seen as means for simultaneously preventing social insulation and promoting socioeconomic integration. The underlying idea was that knowledge of the 'own' language and culture would contribute to a positive self-image, facilitate acquisition of the Dutch language, and reduce the gap between children and their parents (Bouras 2012, p. 90). Combatting discrimination and inequality was seen as the mutual responsibility of both the minority and the majority; *mutual* adaptation was emphasized and combating discrimination was one of the policy aims (Scholten 2011).

Thus, the institutionalization of ethnic and religious differences was not ingrained in a multiculturalist ideology, but promoted for instrumental reasons. The accommodation of sociocultural differences does not express an appreciation of cultural diversity, but rather, it is the pragmatic consequence of the aim to facilitate return and socioeconomic integration. Yet, the Dutch pragmatic approach resembles multiculturalism in the view that a certain level of cultural and religious diversity is acceptable and does not necessarily threaten integration and national cohesion. It is a groupist way of thinking that is not necessarily exclusivist. This changed sharply in 2001, foreshadowed by developments in the integration debate in the preceding decennium.

#### **Culturalism on the Rise**

In the early Nineties, a more exclusivist way of thinking emerged, which, particularly after the turn of the millennium, severely challenged the tolerance for cultural diversity. Whereas cultural diversity was previously tolerated for pragmatic reasons, it became increasingly formulated as a social problem that needed to be resolved urgently, and those who were presented as cultural Others were increasingly regarded as outsiders. This move away from the accommodation of cultural diversity is observed in many other European countries (see e.g. Joppke 2004, see also the literature mentioned by Tonkens et al. 2010, p. 233). As I describe in this section, in the Netherlands, a discourse of 'culturalism' ascended and gradually became one of the most dominant voices in the Dutch integration debate. It was voiced in a style of 'new realism' or even 'hyperrealism' (Prins 2002). Dutch culturalism can be described as 'a discourse organized around the idea that the world is divided into cultures and that our enlightened, liberal culture should be defended against the claims of minorities committed to illiberal religions and ideologies' (Uitermark 2012, p. 15). The ascent of the culturalist discourse strongly relied on particular discursive leaders, who left clear marks on the integration debate in the Netherlands in the last two decennia (ibid.). This description is largely based on the detailed analyses of Prins (2002, 2004) and Uitermark (2012) of the Dutch integration debate.

In 1991, culturalism was freed from its association with the extreme right by Bolkestein, the leader of the rightwing liberals and appointed 'Godfather' of culturalism in the Netherlands (by Uitermark 2012, p. 85). Bolkestein argued that Islam is fundamentally different from the 'Enlightened' Western cultures, which need to be protected against Islamic influences (Bolkestein 1991). He presented himself as voicing the concerns of the 'ordinary people', the lower-class ethnic Dutch, whom he portrayed as the real victims of immigration. After 2000, the support for culturalist ideas also increased among more leftist people following an opinion article in which Scheffer, a member of the Labor Party, sketched Dutch society as a 'multicultural drama' (2000). Scheffer blamed the Dutch elites for being relativist and consensual, and held them accountable for a large number of socioeconomic problems among ethnic minorities such as unemployment, poverty, school dropout rates, and criminality. Scheffer envisioned a strong national identity that articulates what holds society together as a sociocultural solution for these socioeconomic problems.

The discourse that unfolded was not only culturalist, but can also be described as what Prins refers to as 'new realist' (2002). According to Prins, a new realist 'dares' to state the 'facts' that have supposedly been covered up by the elites, thereby 'unmasking' a formerly hidden truth and 'frankly' addressing social issues that should not be 'smothered' but 'solved'. A new realist presents him or herself as a spokesperson of the 'ordinary people' (lower-class ethnic Dutch) and blames the (leftist) establishment whose evasive 'political correctness' has caused the social 'problems' we are now supposedly facing. In this new realist discourse, being frank, straightforward, and realistic are presented as characteristic features of Dutch national identity. According to Tillie, the new-realist 'frankness' led to violations of the basic principles of a democratic debate, which are non-violence, non-exclusion, and the respect of human dignity (Tillie 2008).

In the period after the September 11 attacks on the World Trade Center in New York, the politician Pim Fortuyn emerged in the political arena and dominated Dutch national politics prior to the national elections of May 2002. Fortuyn, who was very explicit with his homosexuality, outshone his political opponents with his controversial and flamboyant appearance. He caused 'political correctness' to become suspect and passionately fulminated against what he called the 'retarded' Islam, the 'imminent' 'Islamization' of Dutch society, and the 'paternalizing' 'left church' (Prins 2002). He argued that the progressive Dutch achievements were under threat and that he did not feel like 'doing the emancipation of women and homosexuals all over again' (Fortuyn in Poorthuis and Wansink 2002). Prins explains that frankness is no longer a means for unmasking the truth, but that the unrestrained venting of one's feelings is now valued for its own sake, and she calls this 'hyperrealism' (2002). Fortuyn was shot dead a week prior to the elections by an ethnic-Dutch environmental activist. Many people blamed the Left, as the Left had (supposedly) demonized Fortuyn. Fortuyn's political party (List Pim Fortuyn, *Lijst Pim Fortuyn*) became the second largest party in the subsequent elections and joined the government, which fell after only 87 days in office (Prins 2002).

Hirsi Ali, a novice politician, also challenged both Islam for its orthodoxy and Dutch politicians for their inert politics. She was confident, eloquent, determined, and above all, she was raised as a Muslim in Somalia. She experienced genital mutilation and fled to the Netherlands to escape arranged marriage. This all contributed to her legitimacy as a culturalist spokesperson and even made her into an 'icon that cultural elites, too, could support or even adore' (Uitermark 2012, p. 148). In 2002, she was allotted a seat in Parliament for the right-wing Liberals, which led her to break with the Labor party. Hirsi Ali advocated a confrontational style, which she saw as the only way to achieve the social change that she deemed urgent. Numerous death threats against her meant that she had to live with constant security. In her fight for the emancipation of Muslim women, she called the prophet Mohammed a pervert and a pedophile. The short film *Submission*, which she made with the controversial columnist and filmmaker Van Gogh (who consistently referred to Muslims as 'goatfuckers', *geitenneukers*), embodied her confrontational style. Many Muslims found the film offensive (Van Tilborgh 2006). It portrayed Muslim women as suffering abuse and showed a naked woman with a semi-transparent veil and Quranic verses painted on her body that can be interpreted as justifications of the subjugation of women. Hirsi Ali not only had supporters among the 'ordinary people' like Fortuyn, but also among the cultural and political elite. Although her approach led many Muslims in the Netherlands, particularly women, to speak up, they reacted mostly in opposition to Hirsi Ali's stereotypical presentation of Islam and Muslims (Van Tilborgh 2006). In November 2004, Van Gogh was publicly murdered in the name of Islam by an extremist. In those years, the theme of 'Islamic' extremism was prominent in the media. The media extensively covered an extremist Dutch network of young Muslims, de *Hofstadgroup*, the 'Capital City group', the ideological home of Van Gogh's murderer. Several of the youth were arrested and sentenced for being members of a criminal and terrorist organization. This was the time of the Madrid train bombings in 2004 and the attacks in London in 2005, both carried out in name of Islam. In 2005, *Time Magazine* ranked Hirsi Ali among the 100 world's most influential people. In 2006, she moved to the United States.

Although the media-focus on 'Islamic' extremism gradually subsided, the success of yet another culturalist figurehead cannot be ignored. In recent years, the politician Geert Wilders has drawn a lot of media attention (although he was not included in Uitermark's analysis, I assume he has high resonance). His success is also visible in political terms. Wilders broke from the right-wing Liberals and participated in the 2006 elections with his newly-founded Freedom Party (*Partij Voor de Vrijheid*). In the 2010 elections he managed to expand the presence of the PVV in the Dutch parliament from 9 to 24 of the 150 seats, making PVV the third biggest party, giving them a strong say in the formation of the new cabinet. Wilders fiercely opposes Islam and presents Islam as a totalitarian and fascist ideology lacking any shades and nuances (PVV 2010a). In the 2010 election program, the PVV advocated a 'combat against Islam' (*islambestrijding*) and a stop to the current (presumed) 'massmigration' (ibid.). Wilders explained:

The second choice the PVV makes is less immigration and less Islam in the Netherlands. Mass-immigration needs to be halted. (…). We need to rid ourselves from cultural relativism. Cultures are not equal, and our culture is better than the Islamic culture. (…) Islam is a violent, totalitarian ideology, which squarely opposes freedom, democracy and tolerance. The Netherlands should not further Islamize. (PVV 2010b, p. 3; translation MS)

In *Fitna*, the short film he produced in 2006 that created an international uproar even before its broadcast, he connected atrocities around the world to Islam and sketched a looming future in which Europe is overwhelmed by Muslim immigrants. Like others, such as Van Gogh and Hirsi Ali, he received many threats that have resulted in his need for continuous protection. His style is highly confrontational and not only serves to deprecate Islam but to also dissociate himself from the elites and seek connections with the 'ordinary people'. He employs crude sound bites, presents himself as the ultimate advocate of free speech, and casts those who oppose him as threats to free speech. In 2010, he was charged with inciting hatred against Muslims but was cleared by the court—a verdict Wilders celebrated as a 'victory for free speech'. He proposed a tax for headscarves, which he referred to as a 'head-rag tax' (*kopvoddentaks*); he wanted to halt the 'tsunami of islamization'; and introduced stickers resembling the Saudi flag, with the virulent anti-Islam statements 'Islam is a lie, Mohammed is a criminal, the Quran is poison' (in Arabic). In the spring of 2014, he made a room full of supporters chant that they wanted 'less Moroccans'.

#### **Culturalism Gained Ground**

The ascent of these loud, culturalist voices does not mean that a uniform 'Dutch discourse' or a uniform 'Dutch climate' exists. Uitermark shows, based on an analysis of the Dutch integration politics between 1980 and 2006, that multiple voices and discourses resound in the integration debate. He identifies three alternative discourses: pragmatism, civil Islam, and anti-racism. Pragmatism has always been the discourse with the most followers (2012, p. 57). An example of a well-known pragmatist is former Amsterdam major Job Cohen, who was committed to 'keeping things together' (*de boel bij elkaar houden*). Another discourse is the emerging 'Civil Islam'. In reaction to culturalist thinking, people such as Rotterdam Mayor Ahmed Aboutaleb, who has a Moroccan background, assert the compatibility of Islam and civic virtues (p. 138). This discourse shares with the culturalists the idea of norm-enforcement and adaptation to civic norms. The third alternative discourse, anti-racism, highlights the dangers of racism, discrimination, and prejudice. As also described by Vasta (2007), anti-racism has been weak in the Netherlands, particularly compared to countries such as the United Kingdom and the United States, and has only become weaker over time (Uitermark 2012, p. 123). Anti-racists are accused of smothering criticism of cultures and religion (p. 127). Uitermark shows that anti-racism is more often identified as a problem than racism itself (p. 126). He concludes that the denial of racism is commonplace among the Dutch elite (p. 129). Anti-racism is a marginalized discourse that encounters strong opposition and has great difficulty accessing the central stages in the public sphere.1

Despite the variety of existing discourses, the culturalist discourse has come to dominate the public sphere. Although Uitermark does not use this exact qualification, he describes other discourses, including the pragmatist discourse, as discursively subordinate to that of the culturalists (2012, p. 137). Pragmatists are highly fragmented, while culturalists band together around discursive leaders and gripping icons (p. 113). The culturalists have the most power to attract attention and stir debate (p. 117), and, more so than their discursive opponents, they have agenda-setting power (p. 148).

The influence of the ascended discourse stretches beyond the culturalist discursive leaders. Culturalist thinking and new-realist rhetoric have also gained ground with more mainstream politicians and parties, both in their discourses as well as in proposed and actual policies and measures. Views on integration as projected by the various political parties clearly show culturalist influences, as Sleegers demonstrates based on an analysis of election programs (2007). She shows that, since 2000, most political parties have adopted the language of 'multicultural drama' and have increasingly formulated immigration in terms of problems, which the parties attribute to cultural differences and which supposedly can be solved though clarity about the Dutch identity and the broad adoption of 'our' (presumably undisputed) norms and

<sup>1</sup>The recently reinvigorated discussions about the Dutch custom of *Zwarte Piet*, who features as a dark-skinned helper of a white-skinned Saint in a national children's celebration, has probably increased the resonance of the anti-racist discourse in the last years. I doubt, however, if its consonance has increased as well, as the anti-racist criticism of *Zwarte Piet* has triggered fierce and emotional opposition, in which *Zwarte Piet* is portrayed as an inherently Dutch symbol and therefore as untouchable.

values.<sup>2</sup> They argue that immigrants should be loyal to 'western key norms' of 'modern society', such as gender equality, freedom of speech, and individual autonomy as inherent aspects of the national identity (Spijkerboer 2007, p. 24 in Sleegers 2007, p. 49, translation MS). There was a telling case in which a parliamentary investigation committee, led by politician Stef Blok, concluded that immigrants had advanced relatively well in socioeconomic terms and that the assessment of a 'failed' integration process was unjust (Blok 2004). The fact that this report did not support the impressions of the members of Parliament did not lead to an adjustment of their opinions but to a broad rejection of the committee's results (Dutch Parliament 2004). In 2007, at the presentation of the report 'Identification with the Netherlands' by the Dutch Scientific Council, the speech of then-Crown Princess Máxima Zorreguieta, who had immigrated to the Netherlands from Argentina seven years earlier, created a commotion. She praised the Netherlands for its rich diversity and explained that in her introduction to Dutch society, she had not encountered 'the' Dutch identity and 'the' Dutchman.3 She was severely criticized for this statement.

The fact that cultural differences were increasingly formulated as problematic cultural distances (Scholten 2011, p. 79), lead to integration policy shifting from the 'cultivation of one's own cultural identities' to a one-sided bridging of differences. Whereas ethnic-minority group formation was previously tolerated in order to facilitate the expected return and for emancipatory purposes, group formation was increasingly regarded as undesirable, as it supposedly hampered integration and social cohesion (Koopmans et al. 2005; Veldboer et al. 2007). This led, for example, in Amsterdam, to the abolition of structural subsidies for organizations with minority signatures in favor of the support of incidental, small-scale initiatives (Uitermark and Van Steenbergen 2006, p. 268). That the higher educated are not exempted is illustrated by the fact that many feel the need to counter the idea that ethnic-minority student associations are examples of self-segregation and reflect estrangement (see for example Van Riel 2006; Algemeen Dagblad 2007; Trouw 2007; Brouwer 2010). In reference to the policy shift, Scholten describes: '[c]ommon citizenship means that people speak Dutch, and that one abides to basic Dutch norms' (2011, p. 78). The aim of the current integration policy is that those 'who choose to build their future in the Netherlands, should be oriented towards Dutch society. Newcomers are in the first instance responsible for their own successful integration' (Asscher 2013). In terms of measures, this led to the implementation of compulsory 'civic integration programs' for permanent immigrants from outside the European Union, including those who have lived in the Netherlands for decennia. This also led to another measure: the Participation Declaration, which attempts to morally bind new

<sup>2</sup>In 2006, the Labor party argued that '[i]ntegration is not only about bridging socioeconomic differences and language problems: it also has a cultural dimension' (Sleegers 2007: 43–44, translation MS). The Christian Democrats state that: 'Shared norms form the basis of our society. They bind us and make us proud of our country' (*ibid*.: 42, translation MS). The right-wing Liberals want to protect the typical 'Dutch' character of society, which is a real source of pride, and needs protection from external influences (ibid.: 44).

<sup>3</sup>See the text of the speech: http://www.koninklijkhuis.nl/nieuws/toespraken/2007/september/toes praak-van-prinses-maxima-24-september-2007/. Accessed 3 February 2014.

immigrants to Dutch society and which was in its pilot phase in 2014. Immigrants are asked to sign a declaration affirming their intention to be self-sustaining, embrace existing values, and actively participate in society (Asscher 2013). Although signing the declaration is presented as a moral obligation, officially it is voluntary. It is hard to say whether immigrants feel pressured to sign.

Additionally, the new-realist tone of voice has affected the public arena. Politicians and media refer to the overrepresentation of citizens with Moroccan backgrounds in social problems such as school dropout rates, public nuisance, and criminality, using the terms 'Moroccan issue' (*Marokkanenprobleem*) and 'Moroccan drama' (*Marokkanendrama*).<sup>4</sup> Another term that became a slur with broad resonance was '*kut*-*Marokkanen*', which translates literally as 'cunt Moroccans'. This term was introduced accidentally in 2002 by Amsterdam alderman Rob Oudkerk at (what he thought was) an unguarded moment (Uitermark 2010, p. 175). In 2011, then-Deputy Prime Minister Maxime Verhagen emphasized that concerns about 'foreigners' (*buitenlanders*) changing society and threatening people's positions are 'understandable' and 'justified' (*begrijpelijk* and *terecht*).5 This did not escape the attention of many, including Golden Calf winner Nasrdin Dchar.

Culturalized thinking not only permeated the political and governmental arena but is also present among the population, which increasingly tends to fear the political influence of Islam (EUMC 2002; Scheepers et al. 2002; Entzinger and Dourleijn 2008). Ethnic Dutch, as well as Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch youth, have the impression that cultural differences have grown over time (Entzinger 2009). Ethnic Dutch do not have warm feelings towards immigrants and their offspring. On a temperature scale between 0 and 100 °C, they evaluate Turkish-Dutch, Moroccan-Dutch and Muslim citizens with scores of 57, 38, and 47, whereas they rate their feelings towards ethnic Dutch with a score of 68 (Entzinger and Dourleijn 2008, p. 104). A large majority of the ethnic Dutch do not subscribe to the opinion that most Muslims in the Netherlands respect Dutch culture (Huijnk and Dagevos 2012, p. 45). This might explain why support for cultural assimilation of immigrants of ethnic Dutch has increased between 1999 and 2006 (Entzinger and Dourleijn 2008, p. 101). Various ethnic-minority groups share the negative evaluation, particularly of the Moroccan Dutch, as nearly all rate the Moroccan Dutch with lower temperatures than the Turkish, Surinamese, Antillean, and ethnic Dutch (Huijnk and Dagevos 2012, p. 50).

<sup>4</sup>See for example the use of '*Marokkanenprobleem*' by Wilders and national newspapers: www.t elegraaf.nl/binnenland/21861018/\_\_Politie\_onder\_vuur\_in\_Assen\_\_.html, www.elsevier.nl/Politi ek/nieuws/2013/4/Spoeddebat-Marokkanenprobleem-gaat-toch-door-1220518W/, www.trouw.nl/ tr/nl/4492/Nederland/article/detail/3420424/2013/04/04/PVV-wil-uitstel-debat-Marokkanenprobl eem.dhtml. Accessed 3 February 2014. 'Marokkanendrama' was the title of a book published in 2007 (Jurgens 2007), which was adopted by mainstream politicians. See for example the text of a Green politician on his party's website (Dibi 2009) and the blog of the Secretary of State for Social Affairs (De Krom 2010).

<sup>5</sup>In his speech of 28 June 2011, see text printed in NRC: www.nrc.nl/nieuws/2011/06/28/toespraa k-maxim-verhagen/. Accessed 3 February 2014.

#### **The Culturalist Demands**

Although the Dutch political integration arena includes diverse players and discourses, it is clear that culturalist voices have become louder and other voices have become more culturalist. As I explain here, this means that very intrinsic demands are currently placed on immigrants and their offspring. Following Duyvendak, I argue that there are also emotive and nativist demands. Not only are immigrants required to adapt to highly progressive norms, they are also required to feel at home in the Netherlands in emotional terms. Furthermore, even if they comply with these demands, their belonging is not self-evident because of 'nativist' conceptions of citizenship.

Along culturalist lines, successful integration and good citizenship are increasingly defined as adherence to norms and values that are considered inherently and undisputedly Dutch. The discussion of the culturalist voices clearly showed that progressive values such as secularism, sexual freedom, and gender equality are presented as the core values of 'Dutch culture', which is supposedly under threat by non-western, Muslim immigrants (see also Uitermark et al. 2014). In the Netherlands, a broad progressive consensus has formed among the Dutch since the 1960s. More than other Europeans, let alone Americans, they adhere to progressive norms (see SCP 1998; Uitterhoeve 2000; Arts et al. 2003; Duyvendak 2004; Halman et al. 2005). However, the idea of an all-encompassing, undisputed consensus ignores the recent homophobic past in the Netherlands and the continuous moral diversity in Dutch society, also among ethnic Dutch (Uitermark et al. 2014). These progressive standards are used by politicians of various backgrounds to demand cultural assimilation, particularly of Muslim immigrants and their offspring, who are portrayed as outsiders because of their presumed moral distance (*ibid*.). As Ghorashi formulates: the right to be different is under threat (2010). Clearly, the demands placed on immigrants go beyond the procedural commitment to liberal-democratic principles outlined by Joppke. In describing the European move away from multiculturalism, he states: 'With the exception of language, the only explicit impositions on newcomers are liberal impositions, most notably a procedural commitment to liberal-democratic principles' (2004, p. 254). In the Netherlands however, immigrants—more so than non-immigrants—are not only expected to respect liberty and equality, but also to have internalized progressive norms as their own personal principles.

The demands placed on immigrants and their offspring go even further: citizens are increasingly expected to be 'loyal' and to 'feel at home' in the Netherlands, as Duyvendak argues (2007, 2011, see also Slootman and Duyvendak 2015). The Dutch Scientific Council concludes that 'integration has increasingly become an issue of identification and loyalty' (Meurs 2007, p. 28). This is illustrated by the quotes of the Dutch politicians Verhagen and Lilian Marijnissen. 'People must feel connected to our society if they want to be naturalized, they have to feel at home in it. It is necessary to feel Dutch' (Dutch Parliament 2000, p. 363 in Duyvendak 2011, p. 93). 'If one is not prepared to conform to our values and obey our laws, the pressing advice is: seek a country where you feel at home' (Marijnissen 2004 in Duyvendak 2011, p. 92). Clearly, cultural assimilation in the Netherlands includes emotional and identificational aspects. Feeling at home and feeling Dutch have become central requirements for citizenship. Because these feelings cannot easily be observed, certain actions become their symbolic stand-ins (Verkaaik 2010 in Duyvendak 2011, p. 92). For example, in the eyes of various Dutch politicians, having dual nationality expresses a lack of loyalty to Dutch culture (Meurs 2007; Driouichi 2007). Belonging and identification is regarded as zero-sum, as singular in nature, which is why loyalty to other countries and cultures are regarded as threats to an emotional attachment to the Netherlands. This explains the demand that immigrants who want to stay in the Netherlands adapt to 'Dutch' norms, values, *and* emotions, which supposedly requires the abandonment of any other norms, values, and attachments. Having positive emotional bonds with Dutch society is not articulated as a national aspiration but rather as a demand that is placed on individuals (on immigrants) and that is formulated as a condition for belonging. In other words: the personal, intimate side of belonging (feeling at home) is set as a condition for the political side of belonging, that is, being accepted as an insider (see Antonsich 2010 for a reflection on these two dimensions of belonging). This demand ignores how personal feelings of belonging are influenced by the politics of inclusion and exclusion. It ignores the responsibility of society in processes of belonging. After all, it is hard to feel at home when one feels rejected or unwelcome, as Jayaweera and Choudhury note (2008 in Antonsich 2010, p. 649).

However, even when immigrant citizens have adapted to the progressive norms and meet the demands to 'feel at home' in the Netherlands and to 'feel Dutch', this does not guarantee their belonging as accepted citizens. The discourse contains yet another exclusivist layer; it is also *nativist* (Duyvendak 2011, Slootman and Duyvendak 2015). The nativist discourse argues that 'original' inhabitants own the place, the nation, because they were there first. This nativist conception is reflected in the consistent and persistent use of the terms 'autochthonous' and 'allochthonous' to refer, respectively, to ethnic-Dutch and non-western immigrants (*and* their children and *even* sometimes their grandchildren6). These are originally geological terms, meaning respectively, originating and not originating from the soil where it is found (Geschiere 2009). Using this terminology renders the distinction between those who belong and those who do not belong immutable; it creates a 'commonsense' justification for asking newcomers to adapt and also creates a hierarchy of belonging. Fortuyn used this argument when he stated that 'Christian inhabitants, like those living in the Veluwe [a relatively religious and conservative area in the Netherlands], morally have more rights than Islamic newcomers, as Christians have contributed to the construction of our country for decennia'.<sup>7</sup>

<sup>6</sup>CBS uses (non-western) 'third generation' to refer to individuals who have at least one grandparent who is born in a non-western country (2010: 37).

<sup>7</sup>NRC (published 6 May 2012) 'En op de website van de LPF, stond de - vaak geciteerde - uitspraak: "*Christelijke inwoners in Nederland, zoals op de Veluwe, hebben moreel meer rechten dan islamitische nieuwkomers, omdat christenen al eeuwenlang hebben bijgedragen aan de opbouw van ons land*".' See: www.nrc.nl/nieuws/2012/05/06/de-extravagante-uitspraken-van-de-flamboyante-fort uyn/.

The shift from integration politics that were relatively tolerant of cultural and identificational diversity to politics that are relatively intolerant of diversity and contain culturalist, emotive, and nativist layers is characterized by Entzinger (2006) as a 'change of the rules while the game is on'.

#### **4.2 Moroccan and Turkish Immigrants and Their Offspring**

The Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch have occupied central positions in the debates on integration over the last two decennia of the culturalist turn, but this is not the only reason why they offer interesting focal points for research. Numerically, they comprise the largest ethnic-minority categories in the Netherlands and have second generations that are currently coming of age. Around 5% (4.5%) of the 16.7 million Dutch citizens are Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch (636,000 and 696,000, respectively), of which roughly half belong to the second generation (CBS 2012). The eldest of the second generation are now reaching their forties. The share of first- and second-generation Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch is much higher in the larger cities. In some Amsterdam and Rotterdam neighborhoods, Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch comprise between 40 and 50% of the population,8 Rotterdam: http://www.rotterdamincijfers.nl. Accessed 15 January 2013. making them the largest and often most-established groups in these neighborhoods, particularly among the younger cohorts (Crul and Schneider 2010). In this section, I describe the current situation of Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch in the Netherlands in socioeconomic and sociocultural terms. I show that both in structural as well as in sociocultural respects, on average, the situation of both Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch is characterized by a distance from the average ethnic Dutch; and, in many respects, this distance decreases over time. But first, I sketch the immigration background, which helps us further understand how the positions have developed.

#### **First-Generation Moroccan and Turkish Immigrants**

The social position of Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch shows many similarities, which warrants a joint study. They also differ in some respects—which I will also mention here. However, this phenomenological study is primarily based on the commonalities in their stories and on the similarities in their experiences and interpretations. The sample size of the qualitative approach is too small to make a well-founded comparison between the Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch.

In the second half of the 1960s and the first half of the 1970s, many Turkish and Moroccan migrants arrived in the Netherlands as labor migrants to fill shortages of low-skilled labor. These were mainly men. Many were married and left their wives and children behind. Although the Dutch government had recruitment agreements with Turkey and Morocco, as well as with other Southern European countries, many

<sup>8</sup>Amsterdam: http://www.os.amsterdam.nl/feiten-en-cijfers. Accessed 15 January 2013.

of the immigrants migrated via informal channels (Bouras 2012). The large majority of the Moroccan immigrants came from the rural areas of the Rif region in northern Morocco (Nelissen and Buijs 2000; Bouras 2012). In Morocco, the interests of the Amazigh, or Berber, peoples in the Rif were put behind those of the rest of the country (Van Amersfoort and Van Heelsum2007), and in order to alleviate economic suffering and reduce political pressures, the Moroccan government directed the recruitment to the Rif (Bouras 2012, p. 55). The Moroccan men who arrived generally had extremely low formal educational levels, partly due to the inadequacy of theMoroccan education system at that time (Nelissen and Buijs 2000). Around a quarter had slightly more than primary school education and over one-third had not attended any school at all (CBS 1986 in Nelissen and Buijs 2000, p. 179). The background of most of the Turkish laborers is largely comparable. The majority came from villages and provincial cities and had low formal education levels (Böcker 2000). Three-quarters had only attended primary school. The first oil crisis halted the immigration of workers. Although most workers arrived with the intention of returning to Morocco and Turkey (hence the label 'guest workers'), in the latter half of the Seventies they had their families come to the Netherlands.

Both groups are predominantly Muslim and originally came to the Netherlands around the same period as temporary labor migrants to work in low-skilled jobs. As we have seen in the previous section, this temporary stay was one of the main reasons that both the Dutch government and the individual immigrants themselves cultivated their Moroccan and Turkish identities. This was also strongly stimulated by (governmental) institutions in Morocco and Turkey which did not want to lose control over their citizens abroad (Bouras 2012; Sunier 1996). In the end, many immigrants stayed in the Netherlands longer than they originally intended and had their families join them. Later, the economic crisis and the fact that their children attended Dutch schools prevented many of them from returning to Morocco and Turkey. Most of these immigrants came from rural areas and had low levels of formal education. Most of the first generation remained in the lower socioeconomic strata. Furthermore, what are generally seen as typically Moroccan or Turkish cultural elements is described in very similar terms.

Although many individual differences exist—and it is disputed if 'the Moroccan culture' exists (De Jong 2012, p. 88)—the broad literature study of Pels and De Haan on socialization practices of Moroccans and Moroccan Dutch (2003) reveals dispositions and trends that are shared by many Moroccan Dutch. This concerns family structures and gender roles in particular. The literature reviewed by De Jong in her description of cultural patterns among Moroccan families in the Netherlands reveals a similar picture (2012, pp. 88–90). Pels and De Haan describe norms and practices that were common in families in Morocco and formed the background of many Moroccan families that migrated to the Netherlands. They also describe patterns of socialization practices observed among Moroccan families after migration. In the more traditional Moroccan family life, age and gender were important social markers and expressed hierarchical relations (p. 24). The adult members represented authority, and there was a strict division between the sexes. Women were primarily confined to the private sphere and the home, while men dominated the public sphere (p. 25). Core values were based on conformity with Islamic law and living in accordance with the community, although actual social practices often had 'agonistic and individualistic' aspects (p. 16, 28). The control of passion and desire was important; impulsive, thoughtless, irresponsible behavior was to be avoided, especially with regards to matters of sexuality, and this was particularly applicable to women (pp. 28–30). De Jong also points to the value attached to honor, which refers to the importance of upholding an impeccable public image (Van der Meer 1984 in De Jong 2012, p. 88–89). Moroccan families that came from rural areas and had no formal schooling were relatively traditional and experienced a large gap with the Dutch context in which they arrived (Pels and De Haan 2003, p. 51). However, these traditions were already undergoing change before the moment of migration, only to change more since then. Tensions between Moroccan communities that originated from different regions fragmented social networks and weakened social control (p. 48). The number of children per family sharply decreased (p. 49). The father's authority declined, partly due to 'role reversal', as children became mediators between their parents and outside institutions (p. 53). Girls obtained a growing amount of freedom to study and enter the labor market, provided they uphold the key values of respect, chastity, and family honor (p. 52). However, the shift in balance between the young and the old and between women and men that took place in practice has not been accompanied by a parallel shift in ideology (p. 54). Contrary to many ethnic-Dutch parents, most Moroccan parents do not value the idea of a 'hedonist' youth phase and they fear the 'permissiveness' of the Dutch (p. 61).

Often, in literature on the sociocultural positions of Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch, these categories are taken together (see for example Douwes et al. 2005; Nabben et al. 2006; Pels and De Gruijter 2006). Although Turkey is a more modern and secular society than Morocco (Van Amersfoort 1986), the cultural characteristics of the Turkish immigrants, particularly those with rural backgrounds, are described in roughly similar terms (see Böcker 2000; De Vries 1995). Like the Moroccan Dutch, many Turkish Dutch hold relatively traditional views on gender roles and family structures. Turkish family structures are often characterized by a great interdependency between the generations. Women in general have limited freedom and are subjected to high social control. Chastity and modesty are considered highly important, and many dislike the Dutch liberal attitude towards the interaction between the sexes.

Differences exist alongside these similarities. Since their arrival in the Netherlands, the Turkish Dutch in general have been more strongly-oriented towards their ethnic group, or rather ethnic subgroups. Despite differences of opinion among the Turks and despite rigid ethnic, political and religious dividing lines (Böcker 2000), for Turkish immigrants, their country of origin and national identity have been stronger sources of bonding and pride than for their Moroccan counterparts (Nelissen and Buijs 2000). Most Moroccan immigrants had a troubled history with the Moroccan State because, as Amazigh from the Rif area, they were second-class citizens. Furthermore, the Moroccan immigrants were more fragmented than the Turkish Dutch, as Moroccan immigrants often reconstructed the social units that existed before migration, which were based on patrilineal and regional lines, and tensions between these social units frequently occurred (Van den Berg-Eldering 1978 in Pels and De Haan 2003, p. 48). Whereas most Turkish immigrants shared the same Turkish language, Moroccan immigrants with different subethnicities spoke different languages. This difference in cohesion is also reflected in the level of organization.. In the Netherlands, there exist twice as many organizations and mosques with Turkish signatures than with Moroccan signatures (Van Heelsum et al. 2004, p. 3). Furthermore, the Turkish organizations form a much more cohesive network than the Moroccan organizations (Fennema et al. 2000, p. 17). The landscape of Turkish organizations in the Netherlands largely reflects the organizational and ideological landscape in Turkey, and many Turkish organizations are closely affiliated with the Turkish State (Böcker 2000; Sunier 1996; Yükleyen 2009), while this is far less the case for the organizations of Moroccans in the Netherlands (Van Heelsum et al. 2004; Bouras 2012). This weaker coethnic cohesion among the Moroccan Dutch is often seen as an explanation for a stronger orientation towards the Netherlands. This weaker cohesion is also seen as one of the causes for the relatively high rates of criminality among Moroccan Dutch (Vermeulen and Penninx 2000, p. 219).

#### **Socioeconomic Position of the Second Generation**

While most of the first generation remained in the lower socioeconomic strata, the second-generation Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch show considerable advancement, although their averages still lag behind those of the ethnic Dutch. When the entire Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch populations are compared with the entire ethnic-Dutch population (which, as I explained in Chap. 2, does not do justice to differences in class background),9 they show considerable disadvantage (see Fig. 4.1). For example, Turkish Dutch and Moroccan Dutch between the ages of 18 and 25 lack a 'starter qualification' (a diploma of middle to higher education levels, which are considered to have good employment prospects) nearly twice as often as ethnic Dutch.<sup>10</sup> This is twice as prevalent among men than women: 23% of Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch male youths who left school lack a starter qualification,

<sup>9</sup>This section is based mainly on data from the CBS (Statistics Netherlands,*Centraal Bureau voor de Statistiek*) and SCP (Netherlands Institute for Social Research, *Sociaal en Cultureel Planbureau*). These research institutes are closely affiliated with the government and tasked with conducting research and providing statistical monitors on all areas of government policy. Alternately, the two institutions produce the *Jaarrapport Integratie*, a yearly monitor of the state of affairs with regard to the 'integration' of 'allochthonous' groups, based on statistical data about socioeconomic and sociocultural aspects of the situation of immigrants and their offspring in the Netherlands. As mentioned in Chapter 2, the figures in the Integration Monitors are largely organized by ethnic background rather than by class background or parental education level (see for example CBS 2012). Apparently, even though the authors of these monitors suggest that the educational arrear 'seems to be more related to characteristics of the parental environment than with ethnicity' (2012: 70), this does not lead them to present the figures in a manner other than organized by ethnicity (and occasionally by gender).

<sup>10</sup>The Dutch education system is characterized by the lack of a significant sector of private schools and by the presence of a public school system that is of relatively high quality. Fewer than two per cent of the pupils attend a public secondary school (Elsevier 2005). Nevertheless, the achievements of Dutch pupils are ranked at 10th best in the world (OECD 2013: PISA rankings 2012).

**Fig. 4.1** Education levels per ethnic group and age group (CBS 2012, p. 88)

**Table 4.1** Inflow into higher education (average percentages of population groups at the age of entering higher education) (CBS 2012, p. 85)


compared to 12% of ethnic Dutch male youths; the corresponding percentages for females are 14 and 7 (CBS 2012, p. 82).

Yet, many of the younger generation Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch show strong upward mobility and are closing the gap with the ethnic Dutch. There is a sharp rise in the number of Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch entering higher education, which leads Crul and Doomernik to speak of a 'polarization' among the second generation (2003). In 2011, nearly four out of ten young adult Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch men and nearly five out of ten women entered higher education (HBO or university) (Table 4.1). Only eight years earlier, in 2003/2004, this was still roughly three out of ten men and women (CBS 2012, p. 85). Roughly ten per cent start at university. Although the percentages lag behind those of the ethnic-Dutch respondents, of whom nearly six out of ten enter higher education and two out of ten enter university, it is still a percentage (and a rise) that cannot be ignored in assessments of 'integration'. The idea that the Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch second generation has unambiguously 'failed' is unjust when we look at their educational achievements at the high end of the spectrum. These figures furthermore nuance the idea of the disadvantaged position of Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch women, as women achieve higher education levels more than men.

The position of the Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch in the job market is precarious. This has become particularly apparent in the current economic crisis, both for the higher and lower educated (Huijnk, Gijsberts and Dagevos 2014: 43, see also Vasta 2007). Around 10% of the Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch with an *HBO* or university diploma are unemployed, versus 5% of the higher-educated ethnic Dutch. Among the lower educated the difference is even greater. Unemployment among the lower-educated Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch is over 20 and 15%, respectively, while only over 5% of the lower-educated ethnic Dutch are unemployed.

#### **Sociocultural Orientations of the Second Generation**

As the incorporation of immigrants is not only assessed in socioeconomic terms, but also—and as we have seen, even more so—in sociocultural terms, I discuss various aspects of the sociocultural position of Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch, focusing on social interactions, language, and specific practices, as well as aspects that are central to the culturalist discourse and relate to normative demands placed on immigrants: religiosity and progressive norms. I compare the Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch, and consider developments over time. I also analyze if the higher educated differ from the lower educated. The description is partly based on the TIES data, which focuses specifically on the second generation and enables me to compare the lower- and higher-educated second-generation Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch. The description is furthermore based on data from the national research body SCP (Netherlands Institute for Social Research), as published in the report written by Huijnk and Dagevos (2012). This data contain longitudinal information about the first and second generations combined and some information about the differences between the first and second generations. The data of TIES and the SCP are partly complementary and partly overlapping and reveal rather similar pictures.

#### *Social Interactions*

Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch appear to have a strong social orientation towards both coethnics and people with other ethnic-minority backgrounds, such as ethnic Dutch. This refutes the idea that a strong coethnic orientation precludes a strong orientation towards ethnic Dutch. When asked about the ethnic background of their three best friends, over half of the Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch secondgeneration TIES respondents indicate that the best friends of the majority of each group are coethnic: 63% of the Turkish Dutch and 55% of the Moroccan-Dutch respondents have two or even three best friends who are coethnic; 92% of the Turkish Dutch and 85% of the Moroccan Dutch who are in a relationship have a partner with a coethnic background. When we zoom in on their broader networks of friends, the picture is more diverse. For both categories, only 18% indicate that 'most' of their current friends are coethnic. The SCP data are rather similar. They reveal a coethnic focus for people who are close, such as best friends and partners (p. 60, 62), but at the same time, 74% of the second-generation Moroccan Dutch and 82% of the Turkish Dutch indicate that they have a lot of contact with ethnic Dutch in their leisure time (p. 59). The majority of the Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch respondents indicate that they also have leisure time contacts with people from other ethnicminority backgrounds (p. 61). The ethnic Dutch appear to lead the most segregated lives; 38% of the ethnic-Dutch SCP respondents in the four largest cities (where most ethnic minorities live) hardly ever have contact with ethnic minorities (p. 63).

The Turkish-Dutch second-generation TIES respondents are slightly more oriented towards coethnic others than the Moroccan Dutch, although this difference is only significant with regards to their best friends (see values for *gamma* and levels of probability in Appendix B). Education level significantly influences the ethnic composition of the social network. Lower-educated Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch TIES respondents more frequently have coethnic friendships and a coethnic partner than higher-educated respondents. Whereas 43% of the lower-educated Moroccan and Turkish Dutch (taken together) have three best friends who are all coethnic, this percentage is 27% of those who attended or graduated from higher vocational education (*HBO*) or university. Regarding their broader network of friends, 22% of the lower educated have friends who are 'mostly' coethnic, compared to 10% of the higher educated. Offering an explanation, Entzinger and Dourleijn point to the different compositions of the student populations at higher education levels (with relatively few ethnic-minority students) and lower education levels (with relatively many ethnic-minority students). The SCP data show that social contact with ethnic Dutch has not increased over the years, contrary to what we would have expected based on straight-line ideas of incorporation. The various indicators reveal that this has remained roughly the same or has (slightly) decreased (p. 53, 54, 56).

#### *Language*

Regarding language, we observe a development towards adaptation. The SCP data shows that the use of the Dutch language at home has steadily increased among the Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch since the end of the Nineties, and that their language proficiency has improved (pp. 65–72). This is the case both for Moroccan and Turkish Dutch, although the Moroccan Dutch speak Dutch at home more often and report a higher proficiency (*ibid*.). The TIES data confirms this difference between the Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch. Whereas two-thirds of the Moroccan-Dutch second-generation respondents mostly speak Dutch with their friends (68%) and siblings (66%), this is the case for only one-third of the Turkish Dutch (respectively 33 and 29%). Consequently, this difference in language use is reflected in a significant difference in proficiency: more Moroccan-Dutch respondents than Turkish-Dutch respondents report that they speak Dutch excellently (57 and 45%, respectively). Turkish Dutch are more fluent in their parents' language than the Moroccan Dutch; 47% of the Turkish Dutch indicate they speak their parents' language very well or excellently, compared to 37% of the Moroccan-Dutch respondents who feel this way.

Higher-educated second-generation TIES respondents speak Dutch more often with their friends than those who are lower educated, which is not surprising considering the composition of their social networks. With their friends, 63% of the higher educated speak mostly Dutch, whereas this percentage is 42% for the lower educated. This is also the case for their communication with siblings. This difference in language use is reflected in their proficiency. Higher-educated respondents report on their Dutch language skills more positively than lower educated, whereas the lower educated report slightly higher proficiency in their parents' language than the higher educated.

#### *Other Practices*

When we look at other aspects, again we see that the Turkish-Dutch second generation have a stronger coethnic orientation than the Moroccan Dutch. Second-generation Turkish-Dutch TIES respondents watch coethnic television channels more frequently than Moroccan-Dutch respondents, and also more frequently go out to places where second-generation youth gathers, visit the country of their parents, and participate in organizations with a coethnic signature. Differences between the lower and higher educated are less pronounced. The lower educated watch coethnic television channels significantly more often and also participate in organizations with a coethnic signature significantly more frequently.

#### *Religiosity*

Over the last decennia, the Netherlands changed from one of the world's most religious societies to one of the most secular (Van Rooden 2004 in Uitermark et al. 2014, p. 246). In such a secular society, the religiosity of the Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch stands out. According to the SCP data, less than half of the ethnic Dutch (45%) see themselves as belonging to a religion (nearly all as Christian), compared to 98 and 95%, respectively, of the Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch, nearly all as Islamic (p. 78). The TIES data reveal that the difference between the ethnic categories is even larger among the younger generation: 90% of the Moroccan-Dutch and 88% of the Turkish-Dutch TIES respondents declare a religion, whereas only 20% of the ethnic-Dutch TIES respondents declare a religion. Nearly all religious second-generation TIES respondents are Muslim (98 and 97%), while most of the religious ethnic Dutch respondents are Christian (82%; 11% choose the category 'Other'). Although equal shares of Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch respondents call themselves religious, the level of religiosity appears higher among the Moroccan Dutch than among the Turkish Dutch. Moroccan-Dutch respondents more frequently said they 'totally agree' with the statement that they see their religion as an important part of themselves (56% vs. 48% for Turkish Dutch); more frequently indicated that they pray more than once a day (49 vs. 13%); and also were slightly more likely to agree with the view that religion should be represented in politics and society (28 vs. 24%). Moroccan-Dutch respondents do not visit the mosque more often. Slightly more Moroccan women wear a headscarf (42 vs. 37%), but this difference is not significant. In short, on average, Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch are much more religious than ethnic Dutch, and Moroccan Dutch even more so than Turkish Dutch. This is supported by the SCP data (p. 78-81). There is no evidence that the religiosity of Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch is dropping; religious attendance has even increased in the last decennium for both ethnic categories (*ibid*., p. 80).

The higher educated hardly differ from the lower educated in their religiosity: 93% of the higher-educated Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch second-generation TIES respondents declare a religion versus 89% of the lower educated. They do not significantly differ from the lower educated in the personal significance they attach to their religion, how often they pray, or how often they visit the mosque. However, the lower educated want religion to be represented in politics and society more often than the higher educated, and the lower-educated second-generation women wear headscarves (46%) more often than the higher educated (29%).

#### *Progressive Norms*

Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch are not only more religious, but are also more traditional than the ethnic Dutch, specifically in their attitudes regarding gender roles, homosexuality, ethical issues such as abortion and euthanasia, and 'traditional' values such as respect for parents, obedience, courtesy, and conservatism. The SCP data show that around one-quarter of both ethnic categories agree with traditional gender statements, compared with around 10% of the ethnic Dutch (Huijnk and Dagevos 2012, p. 72); 28% of both ethnic-minority categories approve of same-sex marriage compared to 80% of the ethnic-Dutch respondents (p. 76). Regarding abortion and euthanasia, Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch are also more traditional than ethnic Dutch (p. 74). Another study shows that Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch have much more appreciation for traditional values such as respect and obedience than ethnic Dutch (Entzinger and Dourleijn 2008, p. 47).

Regarding these various norms, Moroccan Dutch are not clearly more traditional than Turkish Dutch or vice versa. It is only with regard to traditional values such as respect and obedience that the Turkish Dutch are more traditional than the Moroccan Dutch (Entzinger and Dourleijn 2008, p. 47). According to the SCP data, there is no notable difference in progressiveness between the first and second generations except regarding euthanasia and abortion (*ibid*., p. 73, 75, 76). This does not mean, however, that there are no developments over time. Measured between 1998 and 2011, the Moroccan and Turkish Dutch have become slightly more progressive (*ibid*., p. 73). Entzinger and Dourleijn's data also indicate that Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch have also become slightly more progressive over time with regards to partner choice and 'traditional' values such as respect and obedience. Furthermore, the data of the Integration Report 2009 (Gijsberts and Dagevos 2009) show that children of Turkish and Moroccan immigrants had more progressive values in 2006 than in 1998, for example with regard to 'modern values' such as individualization, emancipation and secularization.

Zooming in on the second generation, the TIES data show that the Moroccan and Turkish second-generation respondents are more traditional than the respondents of the ethnic-Dutch control group (CG), but the gap varies for different norms. The differences are smaller regarding 'gender roles' than regarding 'abortion' and 'female sex before marriage' (Table 4.2). It is possible that their religious interpretations leave more room for emancipation of women than for issues like abortion and sexuality. Furthermore, across all ethnic categories, the higher educated are more progressive than the lower educated. For the norms regarding gender roles, it appears that the higher-educated second-generation Turkish and Moroccan Dutch are at least as progressive as the lower-educated ethnic Dutch, sometimes even as progressive as the higher-educated ethnic Dutch. This is also the case among the SCP respondents (p. 73).


**Table 4.2** Answers to normative progressive statements (% of category)

*Data* TIES data for the Netherlands, 2007, NIDI and IMES *CG* control group (ethnic-Dutch)

#### **4.3 Summary**

The Netherlands has experienced a turnaround in integration politics in the last two decennia. Paralleling the developments in many other countries, the Dutch landscape has become increasingly culturalist. Increasingly, assimilative demands have been placed on immigrants and have become conditions for belonging. Immigrants (and their offspring) are not only required to internalize progressive cultural norms, but also to express an emotional and identificational attachment to Dutch society. The demand for moral and emotional assimilation coincides with an essentialized view that presents Islam as intrinsically incompatible with being a Dutch citizen and equates 'Moroccan' and 'Turkish' with being Muslim. The culturalist demands have been accompanied by an increasingly exclusivist language and with a nativist conception of citizenship, which reduces immigrants and their (grand-) children to second-class citizens who are portrayed as backward and conservative. In other countries, similar framings have emerged that center on the supposed incongruity of national citizenship with Islam; as Uitermark, Mepschen and Duyvendak show based on a range of international literature (2014, p. 236). The changing landscape of integration politics formed the backdrop of the lives of Moroccan and Turkish immigrants and their children in the Netherlands.

Besides their position in the lower ranks of the Dutch integration discourse, the Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch second generation have much in common, which warrants a combined study. In the structural domain, large percentages of both groups remain in the lower strata, and the second generation still lags behind the average of the ethnic Dutch. Nevertheless, considerable numbers of second-generation Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch overcome their lower-class backgrounds and reach high levels of education.

Also in the sociocultural domain, the picture of Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch is rather similar. Religion plays an important role in their lives, including the second generation. This strongly contrasts with the ethnic Dutch, who are relatively secular. Furthermore, both Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch combine a strong social orientation towards coethnics in friendships and frequent leisure time contact with people from other ethnic backgrounds, such as ethnic Dutch. With regard to religiosity and social relations, the figures show no developments over time, which can hardly be called surprising, considering the increasingly exclusionary national atmosphere. Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch on average are substantially less progressive than the average ethnic Dutch, although they become slightly more progressive over time. These groups are not homogeneous. For example, education level matters. The higher educated on average have more friendships with ethnic Dutch, report a higher usage of the Dutch language and better Dutch language skills, and are more progressive. Although the joint phenomenological study is based on the commonalities, differences also exist between Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch. Turkish Dutch on average show a stronger coethnic sociocultural orientation, while Moroccan Dutch appear to be more religious.

In my view, there is a need for serious reconsideration of the assumption that attitudinal uniformity among all its citizens is prerequisite for a country. Nevertheless, those who propagate cultural assimilation out of fear that an incongruence of different cultures impedes the incorporation of people with a Moroccan or Turkish background, can feel somewhat reassured. Conceptions of 'the' Moroccan and Turkish cultures as static and incongruent are contradicted by the differences between the Turkish Dutch and Moroccan Dutch (the latter are more negatively portrayed but actually show a smaller sociocultural distance), the shifts over time, and the differences between the lower and higher educated. These observations refute the idea that a 'cultural distance' is an inherent reality for all Muslims, and that 'Muslims' form a homogeneously traditional group. In the next chapters, I further explore the affiliations and orientations of the higher-educated second-generation Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch.

#### **References**


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## **Chapter 5 Self-identifications Explored. 'Am I Dutch? Yes. Am I Moroccan? Yes'**

*How do second-generation Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch climbers identify in terms of ethnic and national labels? And what does feeling 'Moroccan', 'Turkish' and 'Dutch' mean to them?*

In Chap. 4, we read that in the Netherlands an integration discourse gained ground that increasingly demanded immigrants to assimilate in sociocultural terms and emotionally identify with the Netherlands. Identification as 'Moroccan' or 'Turkish' is feared to suppress 'loyalty' to Dutch society and hamper 'integration'. This fear is based on comprehensive notions of identification and culture, and on the view that ethnic and national orientations are mutually exclusive. As I explained, in the underlying views, identification with someone's ethnicity is 'assumed to be an automatic instance of retention' (Gans 1997, p. 881), or even seen as an automatic consequence of 'cultural stuff' and a cohesive ethnic community. Hence, surveys that evaluate the position of immigrants and their offspring often contain identification questions, and the answers to these questions are read as substantive indicators of sociocultural 'integration'.

An illustration forms a chapter of the authoritative SCP (The Netherlands Institute for Social Research), which publishes biyearly reports about 'integration'. In their 2012 report, they spend an entire chapter on the bond with the Netherlands of four selected ethnic-minority categories (Huijnk and Dagevos 2012). This chapter partly focuses on identifications, and in reference to the identification survey question (which is not specified) various different terms are used in the same breath. These phrasings include 'identification with' (*identificatie met*), 'identification as' (*identificatie als*), 'feeling…' (*zich … voelen*), 'seeing themselves as a member of' (*zich rekenen tot*), 'feeling member of' (*als lid voelen van*), 'orientation towards' (*oriëntatie op*). Furthermore, 'identification as Dutch' and 'identification with the Netherlands' are used interchangeably (p. 87). All these terms are regarded as indicators of 'emotional bonds' (*emotionele binding*), orientation towards the own group, and of the relation to Dutch society (*verhouding tot de Nederlandse samenleving*). Although the researchers note that they see ethnic and national identification as independent (p. 84), they connect them in a way that suggests a one-dimensional relation. Their introductory sentence reads: 'Members of the immigrant groups differ in the extent to which they feel Dutch or, in contrast, see themselves as members of the own ethnic group' (*Leden van migrantengroepen verschillen nogal in de mate waarin zij zich Nederlands voelen of zich juist tot de eigen etnische herkomstgroep rekenen*) (emphasis MS, p. 84). The categories used to report on the respondents' identification also radiate this one-dimensional idea; these are: 'mainly feels as a member of the ethnic group', 'equally member of ethnic group and Dutch', 'mainly feels Dutch' (*voelt zich vooral lid herkomstgroep; evenveel lid herkomstgroep als Nederlander; voelt zich vooral Nederlander*) (pp. 85–87). Clearly, this chapter is based on three assumptions:


The results of this current phenomenological study help nuance these assumptions about ethnic identifications. This chapter contains an introductory quantitative analysis followed by qualitative illustrations. Survey data show that the widespread groupist assumptions are not in line with how second-generation Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch respondents answer to survey questions about identification and cultural practices. These results call for an open in-depth exploration in order to understand what identifications mean for individuals and why they identify as they do. They also warn us to be careful with the interpretation of survey answers about identification.

In this chapter I first investigate the strength of their identifications to see if second-generation Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch climbers identify with the ethnic labels at all. I analyze if men and women, and higher educated and lower educated, differ in their answers. And I test the assumption that ethnic identification threatens their national identification (Sect. 5.1) I then study what it means when they identify as 'Moroccan' or 'Turkish', or as 'Dutch'. First I check whether it is plausible that identification with a certain label is a consequence of a broader, coherent sociocultural orientation. I analyze the association between identification and sociocultural content in the survey data (Sect. 5.2). Second, I turn to the interview data


**Table 5.1** Composition of sample higher-educated respondents (% of the total ethnic category)

Only respondents with mono-ethnic backgrounds; excluded are 13 Moroccan- and 7 Turkish-Dutch higher-educated respondents with mixed ethnic backgrounds

*Data* TIES survey for the Netherlands, 2007, NIDI and IMES

*CG* control group, consisting of ethnic-Dutch respondents

to see how the participants speak about these identifications (Sect. 5.3). The chapter concludes with a discussion of the findings, reflecting on the adequacy of objectivist views, as they dominate in the Dutch discourse and occur in scholastic literature, to capture phenomena such as ethnic and national identifications (Sect. 5.4).

#### **5.1 Identification with the Ethnic and National Labels**

Although the participants of the in-depth interviews are university educated, the selection for the statistical analyses also contains TIES respondents with higher vocational education (*HBO*) (Table 5.1) to ensure a large enough selection. This is also why the selection of higher-educated ('HE') respondents includes both respondents who have completed their degrees at these levels of education and respondents who are currently enrolled in higher education. Considering the composition of the TIES data, the TIES respondents are generally younger than the participants of the indepth interviews, who are all over 30 years old. The statistical analyses only include respondents whose parents are *both* born in Morocco or Turkey, to avoid discussions on the effect of having a mixed ethnic background. It turns out that having a mixed ethnic background significantly influences one's ethnic identification (see Appendix C, Tables C.1 and C.2). This is not surprising because for people with mixed ethnic backgrounds, their Moroccan or Turkish origins are only half of their ethnic stories. The effect of a mixed ethnic background is not a theme of this study.

#### **Levels of Ethnic and National Identification**

The TIES questionnaire contained several questions about one's affiliation with certain labels. The questions that relate to ethnic and national identification are: 'To what extent do you feel Moroccan/Turkish?' and 'To what extent do you feel Dutch?' The response options ranged from not at all/very weak (value: 1) to very strong (value: 5). The results for the three ethnic categories in the survey are displayed in Table 5.2. As we do not know what the answers meant to the individual respondents, I do not attach broader meanings to the answers given to these questions on identification. The answers are solely seen as expressions of affiliations with a certain label.

The first observation is that the higher-educated Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch indicate that they more strongly identify with their ethnic labels than with the Dutch label. Of both groups, around 80% claim to have a strong affiliation with the ethnic label, whereas around 40% feel strongly Dutch. The answers do not differ between the Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch respondents (γ - −0.041; *p* - 0.713).<sup>1</sup> The strength of ethnic identification as indicated by the second-generation respondents is nearly equal to the control group's identification as Dutch. As for the latter, the label Dutch does not only connect with their country of residence but also with their ethnic background. We can thus say that ethnic identifications are more or less equally strong for the Moroccan-Dutch, Turkish-Dutch and ethnic-Dutch respondents.

The second observation is that the higher-educated second-generation respondents state a relatively weak identification with the label Dutch. Not only is their affiliation with the Dutch label weaker than with their ethnic label, but their affiliation with the label Dutch is also much weaker than the affiliation indicated by the ethnic-Dutch respondents. This applies to both the Moroccan-Dutch respondents (γ - 0.634, *p* < 0.005) and the Turkish-Dutch respondents (γ - 0.688, *p* < 0.005). Moroccan Dutch identify slightly stronger as Dutch than Turkish Dutch do, but this difference is not significant (γ - 0.105, *p* - 0.300). This does not mean that their identifications as Dutch overall are weak, as some 40% of the Moroccan and Turkish participants indicated that they feel Dutch to a strong extent and roughly three-quarters feel Dutch in a neutral or strong way.

In addition, the data show that the responses of those with higher education levels do not significantly differ from those with lower education levels. This means that the difference in sociocultural orientation between lower- and higher-educated individuals as described in Chap. 4 is not reflected in the identifications with the ethnic and national labels. Although the identification with the ethnic labels of the highereducated respondents (HBO+) is slightly weaker than that of the lower-educated respondents, these differences are only small and not significant (Table 5.3). A large majority of both the lower- and higher-educated Moroccan Dutch indicate that they have a strong ethnic identification (both 82%). For the Turkish Dutch lower- and higher-educated, these percentages are 81 and 78%. In their identifications with the Dutch label, the differences are even smaller.

<sup>1</sup>The level of significance (*alpha*) throughout the book is 0.05, unless indicated otherwise.


**5.2**Strengthofidentificationwithethnicandnationallabels(HE,perethniccategory)

*Data* TIES survey for the Netherlands, 2007, NIDI and IMES

Only HE respondents with mono-ethnic backgrounds, *HE* higher educated (HBO+)< 0.10 (2-tailed); \*\* *p* < 0.05 (2-tailed); \*\*\* *p* < 0.01 level (2-tailed)

\**p*

*Data* TIES survey for the

Only respondents \**p* < 0.10 (2-tailed); \*\*

 with

*p* < 0.05 (2-tailed); \*\*\*

mono-ethnic

backgrounds

*p* < 0.01 level (2-tailed)

Netherlands,

 2007, NIDI and IMES

Furthermore, a strong identification as Moroccan or Turkish does not preclude identification as Dutch (Table 5.4). Roughly 75% of the higher-educated second generation combine a neutral to strong ethnic and a neutral to strong national identification. Around one-third of the second-generation higher-educated respondents even combined a strong ethnic identification with a strong identification as Dutch. There is no significant correlation between ethnic and national identifications, either among Moroccan-Dutch (*r* - −0.067, *p* - 0.497) or Turkish-Dutch higher-educated respondents (*r* - 0.153, *p* -0.113).

#### **Gender and Education**

Regarding the identification with the ethnic label, the large majority of the highereducated second generation is in unison. Over two-thirds of both ethnic categories claim to identify (very) strongly with the ethnic label. However, this still means that one-third respond that they identify with the ethnic label less strongly. Around 5% do not identify with the ethnic label at all or only weakly. Regarding identification as 'Dutch', both groups show even greater variation. In both groups, around 40% identify very strongly as Dutch and around one-third take a neutral position; 19% of the higher-educated Moroccan Dutch and 26% of the higher-educated Turkish Dutch feel weakly or not at all Dutch. Do gender and education level explain these variations within the two ethnic categories of higher-educated respondents?

Gender and the difference between HBO and university do not explain these variations. Again, focusing on the higher educated with mono-ethnic backgrounds, male participants show similar responses with female participants across all ethnic categories (Appendix C, Table C.3). Differences between men and women in their levels of identification with the ethnic and national labels are small and not significant. Furthermore, no significant differences exist between the responses of the HBOeducated and the university-educated respondents (Appendix C, Table C.4).

The results of this section raise some questions. Apparently, that the highereducated on average have a weaker sociocultural coethnic orientation, as shown in Chap. 4, does not mean that their identification with the ethnic label is also weak. This applies to both the Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch. Apparently, the fact that the Turkish Dutch have a stronger coethnic orientation and the Moroccan Dutch are more strongly oriented towards the broader Dutch society is not reflected in a stronger ethnic identification for Turkish Dutch, nor for a stronger identification as Dutch for the Moroccan Dutch—at least not among the higher educated. Elsewhere, I have shown that this also applies to a selection of TIES respondents that includes the lower educated (Slootman 2016). It seems as if the answers to questions about ethnic and national identification are not simply reflections of sociocultural orientations, as is often assumed. This is further explored in the next section.


**Table 5.4** Combinations of ethnic and national identification (% of the total higher-educated ethnic selection)

TIES survey for the Netherlands, 2007, NIDI and IMES

Only HE respondents with mono-ethnic backgrounds, *HE* higher educated (HBO+) a'weak'includes'notatall','veryweak'and'weak';'Strong'includes'strong'and'verystrong'

#### **5.2 Label and Content Among the TIES Respondents**

Does identification as 'Moroccan' or 'Turkish' reflect a broader sociocultural orientation, an embedding in an internally homogeneous, externally bounded culture, what Barth calls 'cultural stuff' (1969)? In light of these questions, it is interesting to compare the higher-educated Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch. Given the stronger coethnic sociocultural orientation of the higher-educated Turkish Dutch, based on the idea that identification reflects sociocultural content it would stand to reason that higher-educated members of the Turkish-Dutch second generation identify *more strongly* with their ethnic label than the Moroccan Dutch. However, as we saw above, the TIES data reveal *no difference* between higher-educated secondgeneration Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch in how they respond to the survey question about ethnic identification. Can this difference teach us more about the meaning(s) of ethnic identification?

Please note that strong associations between label and sociocultural practices do not mean that individuals themselves interpret their identifications in terms of these practices. They just show that individuals with stronger sociocultural orientations also more often stronger identify with the ethnic label. In other words, when trends are revealed based on quantitative data, these findings are still inconclusive about the meanings and interpretations of the individuals themselves. Nevertheless, when revealed patterns are in line with certain models (hypotheses), such as 'identifications reflect cultural orientations', this forms support for the validity of these models.When such patterns are absent, this implies that the original models are invalid, and that alternative models and stories need to be developed.

Before I analyze the relationship between the identification with ethnic labels and sociocultural 'stuff' among the higher-educated Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch, I first describe the variables that are used as indicators of these sociocultural orientations. I selected variables from the TIES database that can be seen as indications of a coethnic orientation: an orientation towards coethnics, towards practices that are associated with the 'Moroccan' or 'Turkish' culture and towards Morocco or Turkey. These variables resemble most of the indicators that Phinney identified as the most widely used indicators of ethnic identity, which are language, friendship, social organizations, religion, cultural traditions, and politics; all express some sort of 'involvement in the social life and cultural practices of one's ethnic group' (1990, p. 505). Based on the in-depth interviews, I added three variables on morality to this selection. As we will see in Sect. 5.3, some participants described their identifications in terms of mentality. The additional variables are an attempt to include the component of mentality in the quantitative analysis. These three variables reflect three aspects of a 'progressive' attitude. In line with the definition of Dutch identity in terms of progressive standards (described in Chap. 4), many of the participants see more progressive norms as central to 'the' Dutch culture and as antipodal to 'the' Moroccan/Turkish culture. In total, 17 variables were selected for this analysis, organized into four themes (Table 5.5).



Watching coethnic television channels

Going out to places where second-generation youths gather

Number of visits to Morocco or Turkey in the last five years

Participation in activities of coethnic oriented organizations

**b. Language and social network**

Dutch language skills (speaking, writing and reading)<sup>a</sup>

Skills in the language of parents<sup>1</sup> (speaking, writing, and reading)

Frequency of use of parental language (versus Dutch) with siblings, friends, and partners

Ethnicity of one's three best friends. Are they coethnic?

Ethnicity of one's partner. Is he/she coethnic?

#### **c. Religiosity**

Religious identification. 'To what extent do you feel Muslim?'

The role that religion plays for someone as a person (personal importance of religion, thinking about religion, and seeing oneself as a 'real' Muslim)a

Religious behavior<sup>a</sup> (fasting, eating halal, visiting the mosque)

Wearing a headscarf (only for female respondents)

Political religious norms (the idea that religion should be represented in politics and society, and religion should be the ultimate political authority)<sup>a</sup>

Religious identification. 'To what extent do you feel Muslim?'

**d. Progressive norms (are negatively associated with a coethnic orientation)**

Premarital sex for women is accepted

Abortion for medical reasons is accepted

Gender equality (importance of education for women, appreciation of women working outside of the house when raising little children and valuing women in leadership positions)a

*Data* TIES survey for the Netherlands, 2007, NIDI and IMES aLatent variable, composited of manifest variables using principal components analysis (PCA)

Analysis of these selected variables shows that, in support of the data presented in Chap. 4, for most of these variables, the higher-educated Turkish-Dutch TIES respondents on average have a stronger sociocultural coethnic orientation than the higher-educated Moroccan-Dutch respondents, but this is reversed for religious variables (see Appendix C, Tables C.5a and C.5b). Also, the higher educated have a less strong coethnic orientation than the lower-educated second-generation respondents in both ethnic categories (Appendix C, Tables C.6a, C.6b, C.7a and C.7b). Among the higher educated, gender does not significantly influence the coethnic orientations. In both ethnic categories, the differences between men and women are small and for most variables not significant (Appendix C, Tables C.8a, C.8b, C.9a and C.9b). Again, the respondents with a mixed ethnic background were excluded from these analyses, as this dimension affects one's coethnic social and cultural orientation but falls outside the scope of this book (see Appendix C, Tables C.10a and C.10b).

#### **Ethnic Identification Reflecting 'Cultural Stuff'?**

The following section unravels the associations between identification-with-ethniclabels and sociocultural practices. The findings are discussed per theme: (a) general coethnic practices, (b) language and social network, (c) religiosity, and (d) progressive norms. For each theme, I first assess how the various sociocultural practices correlate with each other and form coherent wholes and then successively examine the correlations between these variables and the identification with the ethnic labels.

#### *General Coethnic Practices*

Analyzing the coherence between the four variables included in this theme reveals that three of the six correlations are significant for the higher-educated Turkish Dutch (Table 5.6). For example, those who watch Turkish television channels more often also attend parties frequented by second-generation youths slightly more often and take part in activities organized by Turkish-oriented organizations more frequently. Note that even though these associations are significant, the correlations are only weak, as the coefficients are all below 0.30.2 This means that those who watch Turkish television very frequently do not always also visit Turkey very frequently. At most, there is a slight tendency for those who watch Turkish channels more often to also visit Turkey slightly more frequently. For the higher-educated Moroccan Dutch, these four practices show no significant intercorrelations.


**Table 5.6** Intercorrelations between general coethnic practices and ethnic identification (HE)

*Data* TIES survey for the Netherlands, 2007, NIDI and IMES

Only HE respondents with mono-ethnic backgrounds, *HE* higher educated (HBO+) \**p* < 0.10 (2-tailed); \*\* *p* < 0.05 (2-tailed); \*\*\* *p* < 0.01 level (2-tailed)

<sup>2</sup>See Pallant's (2007: 132) guideline for interpretation of effect sizes in social sciences, based on Cohen (1988: 79–81): small: r - 0.10–0.29, medium: r - 0.30–0.49, large: r -0.50–1.0.


**Table 5.7** Intercorrelations between language, social network and ethnic identification (HE)

Only HE respondents with mono-ethnic backgrounds, *HE* higher educated (HBO+)

\**p* < 0.10 (2-tailed); \*\* *p* < 0.05 (2-tailed); \*\*\* *p* < 0.01 level (2-tailed)

An examination of the association between coethnic practices and ethnic identification reveals that among the higher-educated Turkish Dutch, two of the four practices are significantly correlated with ethnic identification. For the Moroccan Dutch, this correlation is significant for only one pair of the practices. Again, these correlations are not strong, with all coefficients below 0.30.

#### *Language and Social Network*

Looking at the intercorrelations between the variables on language and social network, we see that the variables show more coherence among higher-educated Turkish Dutch than among higher-educated Moroccan Dutch (Table 5.7). Also, more variables correlate with ethnic identification for the Turkish Dutch. For example, those who have more best friends with Turkish backgrounds are more likely to speak Turkish more often, have slightly better Turkish language skills and slightly worse Dutch skills, and feel slightly more 'Turkish'. These correlations are weak to moderate. Among the Moroccan Dutch, ethnic identification is not significantly associated with these variables. Feeling Moroccan is only significantly correlated to Dutch language skills, surprisingly in a positive way—albeit only weakly.

#### *Religiosity*

Among both the higher-educated Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch, religiosity variables show strong coherence which each other, having correlation coefficients exceeding 0.50 (Table 5.8). For the Turkish Dutch, religiosity in all respects—except for wearing a headscarf—significantly correlates with feeling Turkish. Among the Moroccan Dutch, the correlation between religious aspects and ethnic identification


**Table 5.8** Intercorrelations between religiosity variables and ethnic identification (HE)

Only HE respondents with mono-ethnic backgrounds, *HE* higher educated (HBO+)

\**p* < 0.10 (2-tailed); \*\* *p* < 0.05 (2-tailed); \*\*\* *p* < 0.01 level (2-tailed)

is slightly weaker; ethnic identification is also positively correlated with stronger religiosity, but this relates more to emotional than behavioral aspects.

#### *Progressive Norms*

The analysis of the three progressive norms reveals a similar picture (Table 5.9). Again, for the higher-educated Turkish Dutch, the three variables form a moderately coherent whole, whereas among the higher-educatedMoroccan Dutch, this coherence is largely absent. For the Turkish Dutch, ethnic identification is negatively correlated with a permissive attitude regarding premarital sex for women as well as abortion, but for the higher-educated Moroccan Dutch, ethnic identification is not associated with these norms.

#### **Synthesis**

Among the higher-educated second-generation Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch TIES respondents, no strong correlation exists between identification with the labels 'Turkish' and 'Moroccan' and sociocultural 'stuff'. When someone identifies more strongly with the ethnic label than someone else, this does not automatically mean she or he also has a stronger coethnic orientation towards specific practices and attitudes. This applies particularly to the Moroccan-Dutch respondents. A stronger identification with the Moroccan label hardly correlates with the variables included in the analysis. Religious identification is the only variable that (at least moderately) correlates with identification as Moroccan. The observation that identification with an ethnic label is not always associated with sociocultural content parallels the findings


**Table 5.9** Intercorrelations between norms and ethnic identification (HE)

Only HE respondents with mono-ethnic backgrounds, *HE* higher educated (HBO+)

\**p* < 0.10 (2-tailed); \*\* *p* < 0.05 (2-tailed); \*\*\* *p* < 0.01 level (2-tailed)

of studies on other groups in other contexts, such as ethnic-minority groups in Britain (Modood et al. 1997) and Chinese Dutch in the Netherlands (Verkuyten and Kwa 1996).

The lack of strong associations between most sociocultural variables suggests that there is no such thing as an entirely shared and homogeneous culture. Of the four subthemes, only religious 'stuff' can be said to form a relatively strongly coherent whole. Language and social network correlate moderately at most, while there is little coherence between the other coethnic practices and the progressive norms. This means that there is much more sociocultural diversity among the higher-educated second generation than is generally assumed in the integration debate. The ideas—prominent in the Dutch integration discourse and implicit in some scholastic literature—that sociocultural practices form coherent sets, that there is 'a Moroccan culture' and 'a Turkish culture' and that people are either totally oriented towards their ethnic culture or 'Dutch' culture, thus do not reflect reality; these ideas appeared particularly inaccurate for the Moroccan-Dutch respondents.

For the higher-educated Turkish Dutch, the picture is somewhat different than for the higher-educated Moroccan Dutch. The Turkish Dutch have a stronger coethnic orientation, and feeling Turkish is associated with a set of (moderately) cohesive sociocultural practices. Although we do not know how these individuals themselves would describe their identifications, for the Turkish-Dutch respondents a stronger identification with the ethnic label tends to be associated with slightly stronger coethnic and religious orientations and slightly less progressive norms. I have shown elsewhere that these conclusions also apply to a selection of TIES respondents that includes lower-educated respondents (Slootman 2016).

The findings show that a groupist perspective is inaccurate for describing people's identifications and their broader sociocultural orientations. Identification with an ethnic label does not necessarily mirror a broader sociocultural orientation, let alone a coherent, bounded culture. Differences between the ethnic categories exist, but do not convey the full story. Large variations exist within certain categories, both between subsections (such as education level and having a mixed ethnic background), and between individuals. These analyses exemplify a more explorative use of statistical methods.

#### **5.3 Label and Content Among the Interview Participants**

The survey questions on identification are based on the idea that there is such thing as an elemental affiliation or self-identification. Although the following chapters show that how the interview participants feel and label themselves differs between contexts and varies over time, in the interviews the participants also talk as if they indeed have some sort of constant self-image (particularly when the question is posed in this way), although this self-identification leaves room for ambiguities and contextualities. Let us look at some expressions of ethnic and national identifications in the in-depth interviews:

Am I Dutch: Yes. Am I Moroccan: Yes. I think I'm even more Dutch than Moroccan. But I have elements of both. (Imane)

(…) whereas inside, I feel like a Dutch Moroccan, both. (Ahmed)

Marieke: Do you think of yourself as – do you feel 'Dutch'? Karim: Yes. Marieke: Are you 'Dutch'? Karim: Yes. Marieke: AND 'Moroccan'? Karim: Yes. Marieke: More… or less…? Karim: Less. Less. Less Moroccan. I am ALSO Moroccan. But less. Uh… I don't want to be called Moroccan anymore, actually. Let's just say I'm a critical Dutchman. I think I'm, well… (coughs) – in my way of thinking, I'm sixty percent Dutch, and I can't

let go of that forty percent (…) Because when I am in Turkey I feel REALLY Dutch. But when I am here, I CANNOT say I feel REALLY Turkish. (…) So, I think that is why I make the Turkish part smaller. (Esra)

All participants expressed, either spontaneously or in response to explicit questions, that they feel Moroccan or Turkish. Also, they said they feel Dutch. All identify in dual terms. Some described these identifications in hierarchical terms, while others did not.

We have seen that ethnic identification does not necessarily reflect a broader sociocultural orientation, at least with regard to the chosen indicators in the TIES database. The question remains: what does it mean when individuals identify in ethnic terms? Let us now turn to the in-depth interviews. How did the higher-educated participants describe what it means to them to feel Moroccan or Turkish? What elements did they mention in their descriptions? These qualitative data offer stories that can help interpret the quantitative findings.

Whereas in the case of the quantitative, structured data, identification with the ethnic labels is easy to separate from identification with the label Dutch, these two dimensions are difficult to disentangle in the in-depth interviews. Accounts of feeling Moroccan or Turkish are interwoven with narratives of feeling Dutch. Descriptions of feeling Dutch are important for understanding what it means for someone to feel (more or less) Moroccan or Turkish—and vice versa. Omitting these reflections on feeling Dutch would distort the descriptions of feeling Turkish or Moroccan. In this section, I explore what participants mean when they say they feel Moroccan, Turkish, or Dutch.

The participants gave varying descriptions of their identifications (partly in response to explicit questions about what feeling Moroccan or Turkish means for them). For example, let us compare the somewhat condensed self-descriptions of Karim, Imane, Berkant, and Adem. We first look at Karim, who described what being Dutch means for him, explaining why he does not feel strongly Moroccan. He mainly referred to some basic 'Dutch' mentality:

Marieke: What does it mean for you, being Dutch…? As far as this can be described…

Karim: Umm… I… – Let's say: it is a way of thinking. I somehow THINK Dutch, do you know what I mean? In my head, my thoughts have Dutch words. (…) I DID read large amounts of Dutch books, you know. That sort of becomes your 'heritage'. Um… Umm…. It is not that I celebrate Queensday, you know, but it is just the fact that I am Dutch… Yes, I feel I grew up Dutch – It is hard to explain. It is just that I THINK in Dutch; speak in Dutch. I also feel I have a very Dutch way of thinking. Quite… let's say… rational.

Marieke: In contrast with 'Moroccan'?

Karim: Yes. I think – less dogmas or something. In my view, everybody has to make his own choices, you know. So… well, I also have that 'phony tolerance' in me, you know. (…) So, I don't have these… dogmas. I'm more like: why would you, people in the mosques, be bothered about others?? Others that do not even visit the mosque, you know (laughs). Those people are no threat at all! Why judge them…?

(…) I've always told my wife: 'Morocco is not my country', you know. The Netherlands is my country.

Imane listed her 'Dutch' and 'Moroccan' attributes. Like Karim, she referred to mentality, but she also discussed more tangible practices and the lack of a practical and emotional connection with Morocco.

But I have elements of both. My Dutch elements are for example: I can be pretty blunt; I am down to earth. In general, I feel I understand the Dutch quite well. My Moroccan elements are: I am a Muslim, although I have shaped this my own, personal way. And I love Moroccan food.

(…) Look, I was born here, and I haven't been to Morocco very often, and I don't even have really good memories about it. Although… I haven't been there for three years now, and I have started to miss things a bit. Although 'missing' might be too strong a word. Like the colors and smells, and a specific feeling… But I could never live and work there. Furthermore, well… obviously I speak Dutch; and Berber; and Moroccan Arabic. (Imane)

In describing his double affiliation, Berkant also referred to the emotional relationship with the countries. Furthermore, he distinguished particular domains in which he feels more Turkish and in which he feels more Dutch.

The thing is… I've also lived in Turkey…. I find – Every time when I arrive in Turkey, I think: 'Great!' The first days are always great. And every time I come back, here in the Netherlands, that feels great as well.

(…) There are separate 'domains'. For example music; Turkish music REALLY moves me; it makes me feel really good. My emotional domain is very Turkish, just as the more personal domain. I have been raised like that. I am not a distant person: when someone is at the door at six o clock, I don't say: 'I am watching the news or I am having dinner, can you return later?' We are inclusionary, I am very Turkish in this way, and I feel good about it. Regarding the business element, I am very Dutch. I am very formal, I can easily separate work and private life. I am the boss here. Look, the Turkish are really – the emotional side – it is hard for them to separate.

(…) Obviously, in some respects, I'm really more Turkish. That is, with emotions, sensitivity, passion. It is like that with – uh – soccer teams… I love wearing orange to a Dutch soccer game as much as I enjoy watching Turkish matches. But the funny thing is, when Turkey wins, this affects me more. Maybe because the emotions are deeper; the Dutch side is always somewhat more formal. The emotions are just slightly different. But that's also – maybe I stretch it too far now… It also has to do with your family, with your roots… How can I say this… – The older you get, the more important your family becomes. It is just this feeling, because your parents – because when I visit my parents, this is my Turkish family; with Turkish traditions. (Berkant)

In emphasizing his Dutchness, Adem referred primarily to his practical involvement in Dutch society.

#### Marieke: And you for yourself? Do you feel Dutch?

Adem: I feel, I do MORE than enough for THIS country, more than the average Dutch person. And I would defend this country MORE than enough. And I DO. So, when THIS is the condition for being Dutch, I am Dutch for one thousand percent. When you refer to the situation of the Netherlands, or the neighborhood where you live, or the Dutch economy… – then I find it really important that the Netherlands is doing well. Because THAT's where I live. THAT's where my children will live. (…) I find it much more IMPORTANT that the Netherlands flourishes than Turkey. My own surroundings are most important. Clearly… Dutch in the sense of interests… community… um… atmosphere, and quality of life… in THAT sense I am Dutch. But when you talk about Dutch culture, then I'm not.

Marieke: In your… way of living… you feel Turkish…?

Adem: Well, that depends on what you call Turkish… Or Islamic… Or Islamic-Turkish or Turkish-Islamic… (…) Well, you don't need to ADAPT to the Dutch culture. But you should be informed about society, and you should participate, and understand what happens around here, and why. You don't have to deny or hide your own identity. No, you should stand up for it, that's my opinion!… But when you say: Dutch culture… No, that's not who I am. I – umm… What IS Dutch culture?? Wooden shoes? I could easily wear wooden shoes, if you like. I have no problems with that. Um…, but when you say: partying and drinking and that kind of stuff, when that's Dutch, then I am definitely not Dutch. But I do go out once and a while, I do go on holidays, I do attend parties, etcetera. I also have barbecues. If THAT is Dutch…: Yes, I DO that.

These accounts show that self-descriptions vary somewhat between participants, who referred to various attributes to describe what 'feeling Moroccan', 'feeling Turkish', and 'feeling Dutch' means for them. However, a limited number of themes emerge from the participants' self-descriptions. Some themes pop up frequently, whereas others are mentioned less often.

One of the themes mentioned most often is that of *mentality*. In describing their Dutch side, Karim and Imane both referred to ways of thinking, to a deep level of understanding. They mentioned their down-to-earth mentality and directness, even the 'phony tolerance' (or indifference), which they identify as truly 'Dutch' inclinations. In many interviews, individuality and independence were mentioned as attributes that participants really valued and which for them marked their Dutchness. Many mention their having liberal values and being accustomed to the relative absence of bureaucracy. These characteristics make them realize how Dutch they feel, something which they became particularly aware of when they were in Morocco or Turkey. Several participants mentioned their appreciation of social cohesion, emotions, warmth, and hospitality as typical expressions of their 'Moroccan and Turkish sides'.

The theme of mentality emerged frequently in the interviews among all categories of participants (Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch, male and female). It was most often mentioned in descriptions of feeling Dutch and feeling Turkish; only once did a participant mention it when describing feeling Moroccan. It is also frequently used to describe why one *less* strongly identifies as Moroccan or Turkish. Berkant's account shows that aspects of mentality can be used simultaneously to explain feeling more and less Dutch and more and less Turkish. He used aspects of mentality to describe how he feels more Dutch (his formal business attitude) and more Turkish (his hospitality and emotionality), and also how he does not feel fully Turkish (he is not 'emotional' in the professional sphere). The emergence of mentality as a central component of identification-content led to my inclusion of the 'progressive norms' variables in the quantitative analyses.

*Language* was also repeatedly mentioned in the in-depth interviews. Apparently, not only one's fluency accounts for its importance, but also the instrumental role of language. In the interviews with the Moroccan-Dutch respondents, language was mostly mentioned as an illustration of Dutchness or as an example that one does not feel fully Moroccan. Like most of the other participants, Ahmed indicates he dreams and thinks in Dutch. His limited knowledge of the language of his parents means that he cannot express his deepest feelings in the Moroccan language, and this constrained his access to information about his Moroccan background. Karim not only explained that he thinks in the Dutch language but also suggested that thinking-in-Dutch for him is related to Dutch-ways-of-thinking. Furthermore, he feels closely connected to the Dutch heritage because he has always read Dutch books. This shows how language can strongly relate to mentality. When Turkish-Dutch participants mentioned language, it always referred to Turkish and was used to describe Turkish affiliations. The difference between the Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch participants is that the Moroccan Dutch were more familiar with the Dutch language. In line with the results of the statistical analyses, the Moroccan-Dutch interview participants generally spoke Dutch with their siblings and their coethnic peers, while this was not the case for the Turkish-Dutch participants. The broad usage of Dutch by the Moroccan Dutch might explain the distinct role of language in the accounts of the Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch. Additionally, it could clarify why in the TIES data, feeling Moroccan only correlates with the parental language, whereas feeling Turkish correlates (moderately) with both the parental language and the Dutch language.

When participants described their 'Dutch' and 'ethnic' sides, they occasionally mentioned the *bond with the countries*, both in emotional and practical respects; this was the case for both Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch, and for men and women. Imane, Karim, and Berkant show in their quoted remarks that they reflected on their relations to Morocco and Turkey. In reflecting on her ethnic side, Imane pondered about not visiting Morocco frequently and considered how she could never live and work there. Karim stated that Morocco 'is not my country'. In describing his Dutchness, Hicham reflected on the emotional bond he feels with the Netherlands.

Look at me: I am very loyal to the Netherlands. It is even that I somewhat feel like a sissy – I don't go on a transfer for a year or do a project abroad, because of the risk that I'll miss the Netherlands. Not only family, but that I'll just miss the Netherlands. It's also loyalty to small things, things you value in the Netherlands – (Hicham)

References to Morocco were made in a negative sense to describe that one does not feel fully Moroccan. References to Turkey were generally more positive. Berkant explained that he feels at home both in Turkey and in the Netherlands, affirming his double identification. Adem's quote illustrated that the attachment with the Netherlands can also be expressed in rather practical terms. The Netherlands is important to him because it is the country where he lives, the society he contributes to, and the place where his children's future lies. The lack of a strong correlation between ethnic identification and the frequency of visits to Morocco or Turkey in the quantitative data might indicate that emotional bonds are not necessarily related to visiting the country in practice.

Like the quantitative analyses, the interviews reveal a strong association between feeling *Muslim* and feeling Moroccan and Turkish. Religion was never mentioned in relation to Dutchness, in either a positive or negative way. While some participants explicitly separate the religious and ethnic dimension and emphasize the prominence of their Muslim identification over their identification as Moroccan or Turkish, most participants describe religion as an aspect of their ethnicity and mention ethnicity and religiosity in one breath. Even those who do not feel strongly religious identify as Muslim because of their Moroccan or Turkish backgrounds. They explain they would never feel (or say) they are not Muslim. The entwinement of religion with their parental culture makes them participate in some religious traditions, as Mustapha explains:

Later, I came to see religion as part of your culture again, like – it's just part of Moroccan culture. Some aspects are simply inescapable. You can't really say: I'm not a Muslim, I don't do Islam; because then you actually loose part of your identity. Because some things, like for example the Ramadan, or certain holidays – these are Islamic, but closely bound to culture. (Mustapha)

Specific *cultural practices* were only sporadically mentioned in descriptions of feeling more or less Dutch, Turkish, or Moroccan. This is surprising, considering the emphasis on 'ethnic involvement' in much of the research that Phinney evaluated (1990). This explains the quantitative findings, which show that the 'general coethnic practices' are not, or only weakly, correlated with ethnic identification. When such practices are mentioned in their self-descriptions, participants did not stress participation as much as emotional attachment. When participants describe feeling Turkish or Moroccan, they mention a love of Moroccan food, feeling deeply touched by Turkish music, or becoming (extra) fanatic when a Turkish football team plays. Many of the participants do not drink alcohol. This makes some feel 'less Dutch', whereas for others this not a relevant issue.

Occasionally, the theme of *birth and descent* popped up. The fact that one is born in the Netherlands is mentioned once or twice to describe that one feels Dutch. In describing her Dutchness, Imane referred to the fact that she was born here. Karim hates being addressed as Moroccan given the fact that he was not born and raised in Morocco. Conversely, the fact that his parents are from Turkey makes Berkant say he feels Turkish.

In the literature, *knowledge* is presented as another component of ethnic identification (Verkuyten 2005, pp. 198–199). This theme pops up occasionally in the interviews. Ahmed explains that his prior lack of knowledge about Morocco had contributed to his relatively weak identification as Moroccan. For Esra, knowledge about the Turkish and Kurdish political situation heightened her orientation towards Turkey and the Kurdish people. When knowledge is mentioned, it is mentioned as *cause for* increasing ethnic identification rather than as a *component of* identification.

What did not pop up in participants' descriptions of their self-identifications is the *social network* (besides the family). According to Phinney, 'friendship' is regarded as a component of identification in many studies, which is why it is included in the quantitative analyses. However, in the in-depth interviews, friends are not mentioned in the descriptions of ethnic or Dutch identifications. The social environment is not absent from the interviews, but it is brought up as a reason why someone identifies in a certain way rather than as a component of identification. For example, Ahmed mentions that his rather strong 'white' identification is the result of the primarily 'white' social environment of his childhood, youth, and student years.

#### **Synthesis**

This section has shown how descriptions of feeling Moroccan, Turkish, and Dutch vary between participants. They describe their self-identifications with the ethnic and national labels in different ways. Nevertheless, from the descriptions various patterns can also be distilled. The identifications were described in terms of mentality, language, ties with the countries, religiosity, certain practices, birth, and descent. The first three themes are most central in the participants' descriptions, as they were most frequently mentioned and emphasized and discussed more emotionally in the greatest detail. Religiosity was not always explicitly mentioned, but for many it is an inherent component of being Moroccan or Turkish. I will also briefly reflect on the relationship between ethnicity and religiosity in Chap. 6. Knowledge and social network were mentioned as causes of certain identifications rather than aspects of identification. The descriptions vary in profoundness, in personal 'depth'. Some describe their identifications in more profound terms, in terms of mentality and emotions, while others describe their identifications in more superficial, instrumental and factual terms, such as residence, descent, or holiday visits.3

The descriptions clarify why the combination of ethnic identification and identification as Dutch does not pose any problems for the participants; why these dimensions of identification are not essentially zero-sum for them. For example, it is possible to describe one's Dutch side in terms of mentality (for example one's down to earth character and directness) as well as one's ethnic side (for example the level of interpersonal warmth and emotions). While the participants label most individual behaviors and attitudes as cultural traits that are either inherently 'Dutch' or inherently 'Moroccan' or 'Turkish', they do not apply this singular labeling to themselves as persons. As individuals, they are not one or the other; they combine traits that they associate with both sides. They do so in two ways. First, they combine nonconflicting traits ('Dutch' directness, 'Turkish' hospitality, or a love for 'Moroccan' food). Second, they combine traits in different domains: in the professional domain, one can feel really Dutch and value a certain personal distance whereas in the emotional domain or in raising one's children, one can feel really Turkish and value interpersonal involvement. The fact that cultural traits are defined in oppositional ways explains why descriptions of feeling Moroccan or Turkish and feeling Dutch cannot be easily disentangled; remarks about 'Dutch' traits feature in descriptions of feeling more or less 'Moroccan' or 'Turkish' and vice versa.

Despite the differences between individuals, these findings seem to support the idea that Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch identify with their ethnicity in distinctive ways. Even though Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch participants describe feeling Dutch in similar ways—in terms of mentality and positive emotions relating to living in the Netherlands—the descriptions of their ethnic identifications differ. Turkish-Dutch participants describe feeling Turkish in more profound terms of mentality and emotions, whereas Moroccan Dutch hardly mention these components when they describe feeling Moroccan. For Turkish-Dutch participants, Turkey and the Turkish language play a larger and more positive role than Morocco and Moroccan languages do for the Moroccan-Dutch participants.4 This suggests that ethnic identification is more substantive for the Turkish-Dutch participants than for the

<sup>3</sup>As one may have noticed, the self-descriptions in this section were phrased both in terms of 'being' and 'feeling'. Do these expressions not refer to essentially different components of identification? Verkuyten (2005) distinguishes 'being' components (referring to ontological aspects, to 'objective' characteristics related to the applicability of the categorization) from 'feeling' components (referring to other kinds of affiliations, such as emotional attachments). However, no such distinctions seem to be made in how these terms are used in the interviews, as they are used interchangeably, both by me and by participants. In the context of the interview, the theme of 'objective' characteristics or ontological arguments appears to be largely irrelevant, as it hardly pops up. It only surfaces occasionally, when referring to the ridiculously exclusivist character of the integration discourse but barely in narrations on self-definitions.

<sup>4</sup>Without opening up a new concept and an additional domain of literature on transnationality, here I remark that ethnicity among Turkish Dutch seems to contain more transnational elements than

Moroccan Dutch. Although the large variation and the small sample make these findings tentative, the resonance with the quantitative findings, and with other literature, as described in Chap. 4, strengthens this picture.

Considering the gendered ideas on being a 'typical' or 'good' Moroccan or Turk, it is surprising that no clear differences appear in how men and women describe their identifications. For example, both men and women give attitudinal and emotional descriptions, and within both categories, varying significance is attached to their parental country. This echoes the quantitative findings, which also reveal hardly any differences between men and women.

#### **5.4 Summary and Reflection**

Neither the TIES data nor the in-depth interviews support the idea that ethnic identification is weak for the higher-educated second generation. Higher-educated secondgeneration Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch do not differ from the lower-educated second-generation categories in how strongly they identify with the labels 'Moroccan' and 'Turkish'. Their ethnic identifications as indicated in the TIES survey are relatively strong, surpassing the level of their identification with the label 'Dutch'. This does not mean that their identification as Dutch is weak. Only a small minority of the selected TIES respondents say they identify as Dutch weakly or not at all. A very large majority of the TIES respondents and the interview participants identify both with the ethnic and the Dutch label. In addition, for many interview participants their feeling-Dutch is relatively 'deep'. They describe their Dutch identification in terms of mentality and emotions.

Yet, it remains ambivalent what a strong ethnic identification means for these higher-educated individuals. The TIES data show that ethnic identification is not necessarily associated with coherent sociocultural content. Whereas ethnic identification is associated with a moderately cohesive set of sociocultural orientations for the Turkish-Dutch respondents and is described in relatively profound terms by the Turkish-Dutch participants, this is not the case for the Moroccan Dutch. However, this does not mean that Moroccan Dutch consider their ethnic identity to be less relevant. The ethnic identification of Moroccan-Dutch TIES respondents is equally strong to that the Turkish-Dutch respondents. These findings undermine common assumptions about the substantive content of identifications. The idea that ethnic and national identifications are, in essence, zero-sum in character is proven wrong. Furthermore, the idea that a strong affiliation with an ethnic label necessarily reflects coherent content, a predestined coherent set of sociocultural practices, is greatly nuanced. Large variations exist, both on the level of ethnic categories as well as

ethnicity among Moroccan Dutch. I therefore highly contest the inflation of ethnic identification with transnationality, as ethnicity is likely to refer more to having-a-certain-background-in-a-specificcountry than to practices that are related to two countries. The first can contain the latter, but not necessarily so.

on the level of educational subsections, and on the level of the individuals. In particular, the case of the Moroccan Dutch shows that identification with the ethnic label does not necessarily reflect sociocultural content. In addition, a strong 'ethnic' identification does not necessarily imply a strong orientation towards the parents' birth country nor does a strong 'national' identification always imply a strong bond with the nation of residence. What identifications mean for individuals cannot be assumed but should be studied. We have seen that self-identifications as 'Moroccan', 'Turkish', and 'Dutch' encompass many different aspects, which vary between persons.

#### **Analytical and Methodological Reflection**

This chapter demonstrates the relevance of a consistent distinction between selfidentification-with-a-label and identification-content. It shows that identification with a certain label (for example calling oneself a Moroccan, feeling Turkish, or saying one is Dutch) is not always associated with a specific 'content' (which may be watching Turkish television, praying, or speaking Dutch language with one's friends). A systematic distinction between label and content enables us to problematize and analyze affiliation with a mere label in relation to possible content and reasons for identifications.

This chapter illustrates how quantitative and qualitative methods can complement each other. The quantitative analyses helped us assess the breadth of a phenomenon and compare categories and subsets. While they exposed the existence but particularly the absence of broader societal patterns, the descriptions from the in-depth interviews helped us interpret the quantitative findings. The unstructured descriptions of the identification content help us understand why the statistical findings hardly (in the case of the Moroccan Dutch) or only moderately (in the case of the Turkish Dutch) explain what ethnic identifications mean to the respondents. Part of the reason is that many of the aspects that were brought forward by the interview participants, particularly emotional and evaluative aspects, are not included in the statistical analyses. The personal descriptions focused more on how one *values* certain habits, whereas the selected variables of the TIES survey focused on the *occurrence* of practices and attitudes.

The chapter's findings warn us to not take expressions of ethnic or national identification as straightforward indications of broader sociocultural orientations, whether in more-structured or less-structured approaches. The findings also warn against framing identifications, such as in questionnaires but also in reporting, in a way that implies a zero-sum character; for example, when answering options to the question 'Do you feel more Moroccan or Dutch inside?' range from 'completely Dutch' to 'completely Moroccan', without providing an option for indicating that one feels both completely Dutch *and* Moroccan.<sup>5</sup>

<sup>5</sup>As asked in the Rotterdam Youth Survey (*Rotterdam Jongeren Survey*) 1999 and 2006. (Entzinger and Dourleijn 2008: 91).

#### **The Static and Contextual Character of Identification**

How identification is discussed in this chapter suggests that individuals have stable ethnic and national orientations. Questions such as 'To what extent do you feel…?' appear to reflect the notion that identifications are stable and constant. This makes results based on structured surveys often seem to imply that people's identifications are autonomous and static. At the same time, in many of the in-depth interviews (despite my own reluctance, as I explained in Chap. 3), I asked the respondents similar questions. From these interviews, it also appeared that when people are asked in lessstructured ways how they feel in ethnic and national terms, they respond as if they have a stable identification that applies to them in general. Most participants answered the questions using straightforward terms to describe their feeling 'Moroccan', 'Turkish', or 'Dutch', and did not challenge the question.

This suggests that they experience their ethnic and national identifications as static and unproblematic givens—after all, if identifications are experienced as variable and contextual, we would expect the participants to be unable or unwilling to talk about their identifications in static terms. In the following chapters, I show this is only partly the case. In their reflections on their affiliations with the ethnic and national labels, participants often mentioned the influence of the context and developments over time. In Chaps. 6 and 7, I will explore the contextual and temporal aspects of identification, and the relationship between more stable and more contextual views of ethnic identification.

#### **References**


Verkuyten, M. (2005). *The social psychology of ethnic identity*. Hove: Psychology Press. Verkuyten, M., & Kwa, G. (1996). Ethnic self-identification, ethnic involvement, and group differentiation among Chinese youth in the Netherlands. *Journal of Social Psychology, 136,* 35–48.

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## **Chapter 6 Identifications in Social Contexts. 'I Am… Who I Am…'**

*Why do second-generation Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch climbers identify as they do in various situations? How do social contexts and feelings of belonging affect their ethnic and national self-identifications, both in coethnic and in interethnic contexts?*

The discussion in Chap. 5 about the ethnic (and national) identifications of the highereducated second-generation Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch showed that the participants in some parts of the interview reflect on their identification as autonomous and static. However, when participants tell their life stories—when relating anecdotes and recounting situations—their identifications are far from static and autonomous, but are related to the context. This chapter explores how the participants come to identify in certain ways in specific situations. Based on the in-depth interviews, this chapter explores the positioning of the second-generation climbers in various contexts. How do they reflect on their relations with social others? How do external demands and ascriptions influence feelings of belonging? How are these feelings of belonging related to their self-identification in specific contexts? I compare the participants' stories to the stories of social climbers with ethnic-Dutch backgrounds in other studies (Brands 1992; Matthys 2010). This comparison sheds light on the relevance of 'ethnicity' as an interpretative frame for the ethnic-minority climbers.

As discussed in Chap. 3, interviews are reconstructions, in hindsight, in a particular context and interview setting. What can be explored is not what 'really' happened, but how interview participants recount their experiences during the interview. For some themes, the fact that stories are reconstructions requires extra reflection. This is less the case for themes that involve less interpretational work, such as for example, themes that are more factual or less personally or politically charged.

Social contexts of ethnic minorities are often divided into 'ingroup' (coethnic people) and 'outgroup' (ethnic-majority people and people with other ethnicminority backgrounds). As I explained in Chap. 2, these labels suggest that relations with coethnics are strong and are characterized by agreement and consonance, while interethnic relations are weak and characterized by difference and dissonance. Although I do not adopt the assumptions that coethnic relations are necessarily consonant and interethnic relations are necessarily dissonant, the structure of the chapter reflects the divide between ethnic 'ingroup' (coethnic contexts) and ethnic 'outgroup' (interethnic contexts, which are dominated by ethnic-majority people). One of this chapter's goals of is to explore whether these terms are valuable for understanding the participants' experiences.

The empirical data suggest another relevant divide: that between one's childhood and one's adulthood. I discuss these contexts and phases separately, starting with the coethnic spheres in the participants' youth, in which parents appear to play the biggest role (Sect. 6.1). The second section focuses on the interethnic spheres in their youth: their school and neighborhood (Sect. 6.2). I proceed to consider relations with coethnics in their adult lives (Sect. 6.3). The fourth and largest section shows how the participants move in interethnic settings in their adult lives (Sect. 6.4). I discuss how the participants perceive the 'Dutch' climate in general and how they position themselves in concrete social interactions at their daily work places.

In all four sections, I first describe how the participants experienced their social relations, followed by a discussion of the most common individual responses to situations of dissonance. When the stance of the individual and the social other diverge, the individual needs to deal with this dissonance; for example, when the other has divergent behavioral standards or when the other ascribes a certain label against one's will. Based on the empirical data, I identify four responses that vary in balance between meeting one's autonomous wishes and meeting one's need for belonging and acceptance. These responses or strategies are: conforming, convincing, concealing, and contesting.

The chapter has two concluding sections. One contains a reflection on the impact of various dimensions (Sect. 6.5). I show how social mobility, ethnic background, gender, generation, and religion seem to influence one's positioning and identification in social contexts. The last section discusses the results and their implications (Sect. 6.6). I show the relevance of acknowledging both external pressures and individual agency. I furthermore argue that thinking in ethnic 'ingroup' and 'outgroup' is misleading and that the analytical toolkit as described in Chap. 2 lacks a valuable conceptual tool.

#### **6.1 Coethnic Sphere in Youth. Parents and Others**

Three categories of coethnic actors emerged from the stories about the participants' childhoods: parents, a local coethnic community, and coethnic peers, including siblings.

#### **Social Relations**

#### *Parents*

As we have seen in Esra's story in Chap. 1, Esra recounted a strict upbringing. Her parents placed high priority on education and their children's development, which is why they moved to another neighborhood when the children entered primary school. Homework was prioritized over household tasks. Esra recalls that her father once stood up for her education and challenged other Turkish fathers, who were more protective of their daughters and did not allow them to pursue higher education. At the same time, her parents were not involved in school and school choice in more practical ways. Her father envisioned her to be a doctor, but also would not allow her to live by herself or attend a university of her choosing. This was so inconceivable that she knew better than to ask. Esra's alternative preference was a university at a distance that allowed her to stay at home. This university was not the one that her father had in mind, which was the nearest, so this still formed a challenge. She took up this challenge, and after endless attempts to make him understand the benefits of her choice, she finally got her father on board. She also convinced him to allow her to marry the partner of her choice.

Looking back, Esra experienced her youth as oppressing because she was not allowed to participate in social events. This forced her to grow up in relative isolation. When she sought permission to go on a visit or trip, this was denied. One time she forcefully confronted her mother, and was finally allowed to go on this school trip—but ultimately her mother's lack of support led Esra miss the event. Sometimes, Esra's actions were clandestine, such as visiting the cinema during school hours. Her marriage formed a means to escape this strict control.

Most participants describe relatively strict upbringings, even though not all parents were as rigid as Esra's. There is a spectrum, ranging from Esra's and Imane's oppressing childhoods to the more permissive upbringings of Hind (who was allowed to go to school parties) and Berkant (who was encouraged by his parents to participate in all kinds of social events). None of the parents were indifferent; all employed some kinds of control (which might have been crucial for the achieved social mobility, as suggested by Portes et al. 2009).<sup>1</sup> The stories paint pictures of relatively strict parents with stringent ideas about how their children should behave. Often, this was framed in terms of being a 'good' 'Moroccan', 'Turk' or 'Muslim'.

The participants explain that parental demands to behave as a good 'Moroccan', 'Turk' or 'Muslim', were combined with high expectations of their children's educational and professional careers. With a few exceptions, the participants' parents urged their children—including their daughters—to attain high education levels. Parents valued education and expressed high expectations regarding their children's future professions as they had migrated to the Netherlands primarily with this in mind. Many parents envisioned their children becoming doctors or lawyers. Parents pro-

<sup>1</sup>That having stern parents is crucial for upward mobility is disputed by Stepick and Stepick (2010). In reference to Nicholas, Stepick and Dutton Stepick (2008), they argue that not only upwardly mobile immigrant children have strict parents, but that children across the entire achievement spectrum do so.

vided financial support for books, and many relieved their children of household chores or paid work that interfered with homework.

However, most parents did not offer additional support. Their knowledge of the education system was inadequate to guide their children. Their meager Dutch language abilities discouraged many parents from meeting teachers for regular updates about their children. Other parents, particularly fathers—whose language skills often surpassed those of the mothers—were too busy working to be involved in school issues. Many parents prevented their children from attending universities that required leaving the home and living somewhere else. This restriction applied to many (but not all) female participants as well as to some of the male participants.

Parental strictness was not only about explicit permission and prohibition. Karim experienced pressure from his parents in a more indirect, but no less influential way. He did not comply with their norms for behaving in a certain way, as a 'good Muslim' and 'good Moroccan'—that is, regular praying, visiting the mosque, abstaining from having intimate relationships, and participating in social events outside the family or school setting. He felt that his behavior led to parental disappointment and rejection:

Like I just said, many Moroccans did not see me as Moroccan. They think I'm TOO alternative. They think I'm totally lost, 'satanic' (…). So, my father urged me: 'You need to visit the mosque more frequently, you should cut your hair, you should wear neat clothes, etcetera, etcetera'. Well… I didn't do that. The reaction I got was: 'If you don't do that, you are not a real Moroccan', you know. And you're not a good Muslim. So, that made me think: Why would I even try being a good Muslim and a good Moroccan? I cannot… kind of… live up to it ANYWAY… (Karim)

Not all participants labeled the stringent rules of their youth as dissonant and oppressive. Aysel was taken out of school as a teenager to help her mother at home, but as she looks back, she emphasizes that she never experienced this as limiting or coercive. In those days, she explained that she considered this as simply 'selfevident': it was something that you 'just did', as the oldest daughter who was going to marry and have children either way. Like Aysel, Bouchra was raised in a rather orthodox religious family, but she does not describe the strict rules during her youth as oppressive. Reflecting on her youth, she explained that she did not have any wishes that conflicted with the group norms, so she did not experience any social pressure. For example, she never felt the interest to go to a discotheque. However, Bouchra did not fully internalize the rules, as she mentions that this conformism was partly a 'coping strategy'. Her use of this term implies that there is a less intrinsic and more instrumental side to her conformism—the desire for warmth and acceptance from her parents and other coethnics.

These critical reflections should not lead us to underestimate participants' emotional bonds with their parents. In their stories, the participants often mentioned the emotional responsibility they had always felt towards their parents, even though their life worlds were miles apart. Many participants had sensed the hardships their parents had endured through their migration trajectory. They were close to their parents, as they had always helped their parents navigate the unfamiliar Dutch society they had entered. All participants witnessed their parents' diligence and sacrifices—all for the futures of their children. They explain that they felt a responsibility to succeed and not to fail in return. They wanted to make their parents proud and not disappoint them. (That these memories are possibly influenced by the participants' current knowledge and bond with their parents, does not change the relevance of these stories about their former and/or current bonds with their parents.) Agius Vallejo and Lee, who observe a similar attitude among Latino Americans, call such stories the 'immigrant narrative of struggle and sacrifice' (2009, p. 19). Bouchra concisely illustrates this point:

My parents made so many sacrifices for us that I kept thinking: I don't want it to be in vain. (Bouchra)

#### *Siblings and Coethnic Peers*

Childhood relations with coethnic peers and siblings were recounted in more positive terms than relations with parents and the coethnic community. Many participants assigned their siblings an important role, both in practical and emotional terms. They mentioned their siblings as friends and role models, offering support and friendly competition. A few participants grew up in families whose primary social environment was the coethnic community. For them, coethnic children were their closest friends (only Esra mentioned she did not feel closely connected to them). This was generally the case in Turkish-Dutch families. Moroccan-Dutch families apparently were not part of equally cohesive communities. For the Moroccan-Dutch participants, coethnic peers were either absent in their youth (as their neighborhoods and schools were then still largely dominated by the ethnic majority) or coethnic peers were part of the general category of classmates and neighbors. Most Moroccan-Dutch participants did not feel a special connection to them. On only a few occasions, they mentioned coethnic peers as special friends who understood the ethnic-minority situation and formed a buffer from discrimination.

#### *Coethnic Community*

The broader coethnic community did not emerge prominently from the interviews. Coethnic adults were mentioned occasionally, mostly in an indirect and negative way. Karim tells that his parents transmitted to their children the norms and pressures of their acquaintances from the mosque. Esra recalled that her father's friends disapproved of the fact that she was allowed to study. Ahmed's parents endured fierce pressure from coethnics when Ahmed left town to study in another city. Some participants remember the local coethnic community as a supportive home. Bouchra describes the coethnic community as a 'stable bastion' consisting of people who shared her norms and habits, providing warmth and trust. Adem explains that 'Turkish' people simply had always comprised his direct social environment.

#### **Reflection and Responses (To Parental Expectations)**

Contrary to the connotation of 'ethnic ingroup', participants' relations with coethnics in their childhood and youth appear far from only consonant. Relations with parents and coethnics were not described solely in terms of agreement and belonging, but in a mix of consonant and dissonant terms. This ambiguity parallels other studies on second-generation Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch, such as Buitelaar (2009) and De Jong (2012). Even though all participants' stories radiated love and respect for parents, disagreement was a major theme. The participants' stories suggest that they sometimes felt some sort of struggle to belong, to be accepted by parents and other coethnics. They felt the (sometimes pressing) demand to succeed in educational and professional terms, which needed balancing with being a good 'Moroccan', 'Turk' or 'Muslim'. Parents shaped the possibilities for their children by explicitly promoting or prohibiting certain behaviors, but also by granting or withholding esteem and appreciation. Parental influence was also more indirect when children, out of love or respect, adapted their behaviors to protect their parents from disappointment or the scorn of other coethnics.

Most people will likely recall tensions and ambiguities in their relations with their parents during their childhood. However, these stories indicate that, in line with the Bourdieu's thinking, social climbers experience particular challenges that spring from their social mobility. The parental encouragement to succeed is paralleled with a fear that the children will be alienated from their family. This experience is also described by native Dutch social climbers, who formulate alienation in terms of class instead of ethnicity (Matthys 2010, p. 85). Lower-class ethnic-Dutch parents emphasize the value of working class skills and morals and warn their children against 'unrealistic' expectations. As a parent of one of Matthys' respondents put it—'you can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear' ('*als je voor een dubbeltje geboren wordt, dan word je nooit een kwartje*') (ibid., p. 98). The participants refer to the feared alienation primarily in ethnic terms. They were pressured to stay 'good' Moroccans, Turks, or Muslims, and to avoid becoming 'too Dutch'.

For the participants, the challenges do not only stem from their social mobility. Already from a young age, before the process of educational mobility, they had to navigate multiple fields. Being children of Moroccan and Turkish immigrants who were unfamiliar with Dutch language and society and who were slightly fearful of the pull of Dutch culture for their children, they continuously shifted between the field of their parental home and the field of the school and the neighborhood, where the children had different lifestyles. They experienced extra-wide gaps between parental norms and the norms that were common in the outside world, and between parental wishes and parental resources. In addition, the participants felt a relatively strong sense of responsibility towards their parents to succeed because of the immigration experience and the immigrant narrative of struggle and sacrifice.

When divergent behavioral preferences exist between children and parents and other coethnics, this situation of dissonance requires a response. The stories demonstrate various ways of dealing with their personal preferences and the diverging parental expectations. Participants recount various approaches for dealing with the mix of parental encouragements, demands, and prohibitions in combination with their own feelings of respect, responsibility, and love. The stories show that how individuals act in situations of dissonance not only depends on their own autonomous preference and the preferences of the social other, but also on feelings of belonging and the appreciation of the social bond. The need for recognition—regarded by Bourdieu as a principal human driver—also emerges as an important driver from the participants' stories. From the interviews, four kinds of responses emerge, which I label 'conform', 'convince', 'conceal', and 'contest'. These are characterized by varying balances between one's own autonomous preferences and the wish to preserve social bonds. These strategies are very similar to the strategies Van der Hoek identifies among adolescent second-generation Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch women: acceptance, communication, deceit, and rebellion (2006, p. 78).

(1) *Conform*. One way to react to dissonance is to conform to the stance of the other. Conformism is a way to avoid conflict, which can threaten the social relation. One can fully internalize the other's stance, resolving the entire disagreement,2 but conformism can also entail one's obedience in terms of behavior. An example is when Esra decided that she would not even ask if she could study at a university that would require her to live away from the family because this seemed futile. Bouchra also referred to a strategy of conformism when she referred to sharing the norms of her coethnics as partly a 'coping strategy'. Apparently, in these cases, feelings of belonging are more important than the participants' personal wishes. When one wants to protect social relations and avoid threats to one's acceptance and belonging, conformism is the safest response.

(2) *Convince*. Here people try and convince the other by explanation. This was Esra's approach when she persisted in explaining her preferences for a specific university and for a specific husband to her father. Convincing was Aysel's main approach during a later stage of her life when she already had children and started pursing a professional career. The bond with her family was important to Aysel and her main aim during her path of social mobility was to keep her family close and to prevent alienation. This wish made her continuously try to make them understand and to 'take them along' in her trajectory of personal development. As other studies with a stronger focus on the adolescent period show, the fear among parents and others that social mobility leads to alienation or immoral behavior can be eased by explicit ethnic or religious identifications (De Jong 2012; De Koning 2008; Ketner 2010). Such identifications, both in terms of label and behavior, can convince parents and other coethnics that the child is a good 'Moroccan', 'Turk' or 'Muslim'. This reassurance that the child is doing fine can increase trust and expand the child's freedom. The strategy of convincing is another approach to avoid confrontations and to protect social relations and belonging.

(3) *Conceal*. Another way to pursue one's independent wishes is to hide the behavior that the other does not appreciate. This happened when Esra pretended to go to school and secretly visited the cinema, and when Hind did not tell her parents that she was seeing a boyfriend. According to De Jong, Moroccan-Dutch students often use this strategy, which is based on the apparently broadly accepted principle in Moroccan-Dutch families that 'what you don't know does not exist' (2012, p. 107). In this approach, one does not comply with the wishes of the other, but nonetheless tries to avoid conflict. However, the risk of being exposed forms a possible threat to one's belonging.

<sup>2</sup>Buitelaar (2009: 205, 209) shows that internalization, even though it might resolve tension with social others, can result in internal friction, as internalization can result in a moral dilemma and mixed feelings.

(4) *Contest*. One can opt for open conflict and contest the other's view by assertively pressing one's point or by openly choosing one's own path. This approach is most risky in terms of belonging. One runs the risk of disapproval and rejection, as we saw in Karim's quote above. Another example is Ahmed, who decided to go live in another city against the wishes of his parents, who actually adapted to this situation quite quickly. A participant in Buitelaar's study illustrates the possible consequences of this approach. After this participant finished her studies, she went to live on her own to enhance her job prospects—apparently against her father's will: 'I had to hand in my keys. From then on, I was simply a visitor who had to ring the doorbell. He emphasized that he didn't want to see me again' (2009, pp. 208–209, translation MS).

These four strategies for dealing with dissonance vary in levels of autonomy and belonging. The strategies are characterized by varying balances between fulfillment of one's personal ambitions on the one hand and the protection of one's social bonds on the other. Pekta¸s-Weber (2006) and Buitelaar (2009) observe searches for a similar balance among Muslim and Moroccan-Dutch women. This range of strategies shows that behavioral expectations of others, even when these others are parents, do not necessarily deprive individuals of personal agency. Even in the face of authoritative parents or a cohesive community, individuals often still have various responses at their disposal.

#### **6.2 Interethnic Sphere in Youth. School and Neighborhood**

School and neighborhood were the main interethnic spheres in which the participants moved during childhood. We will see that, just like in the coethnic sphere, the social relations in these environments cannot be solely characterized by either dissonance or consonance. We will also see that in situations of dissonance, or exclusion, one response seemed to dominate among the participants: try to conceal the dimension of difference.

#### **Social Relations**

In all interviews, the impact of feeling like an outsider among ethnic-majority peers was a striking theme. At the time, when the participants grew up, their schools and neighborhoods were still dominated by the ethnic majority. Their ethnic-minority backgrounds made most participants feel somewhat 'different' from their ethnic-Dutch peers in a negative way. Most recall that feeling like an outsider fostered shame and a lack of self-confidence. Some explain that this experience strengthened their ambition.

In many cases, participants felt different as a result of active exclusion. Some were severely bullied. Others were occasionally labeled as the Other, for example when neighborhood children called them names. Many participants voiced their frustration about differential treatment at the end of primary school. Children of Moroccan and Turkish immigrants often received a lower secondary school placement advising than equal-performing ethnic-majority peers. Even though this did not apply to the majority of the participants, it was frequently mentioned in an agitated manner, suggesting that these practices had a big impact.

Feeling different was not always solely the result of active exclusion. Many participants describe how they felt different and isolated because their parents did not allow them to join in social events such as school outings or because they were not allowed to invite friends to their homes. Some felt different because their ethnic-Dutch peers did not share their life worlds. Imane explained that every year when she had to introduce herself at the start of the new school year, she felt utterly ashamed to say that she had no fewer than eight siblings. In addition, she felt an unbridgeable gap because of her aberrant clothes, bags, and books, and because she did not share her classmates' experiences of going out and having dates. Feeling different also related to differences in personal development; for instance, as a child Said was very conscious of his disadvantage regarding the knowledge and cultural capital that was relevant at school. Some had internalized negative images about Moroccans and Turks, as the following (completely anonymized) quotes show:

At primary school, I somehow understood that, well… yes, that Moroccan and Turkish parents were illiterate, etcetera. So, I remember being VERY surprised to find out that my mother actually was able to read! Because I thought: 'What -?! You can't read, can you?!' How silly that was! Just because I had heard somewhere (not at home…) that, well, people from Morocco or Turkey cannot read and write.

You just start to wonder, because you don't see any examples, you're the first generation that attends school, you have no one preceding you – I literally remember that I wondered: 'Are those Turkish actually stupid? Are the others just right? Is it really possible that they are just right about this?' …That you even start to CONSIDER these things!!

Not all stories are characterized by exclusion and non-belonging. Participants attending 'white' schools did not always feel different from their environment. Said, who was conscious of his disadvantaged position in primary school, reflects on his secondary school period in different ways. He says he did not feel different from his ethnic-Dutch peers in secondary school. Ahmed had always identified as very 'white' because of his 'white' environments. Aysel explained that the current issue of integration and 'foreigners' (*allochtonen*) was simply not relevant in her youth. She was just Aysel, a Turkish girl; that was all, nothing more. Hind stated that she never felt out of place; she had always had many friends of various ethnic backgrounds. She even had more friends with ethnic-Dutch backgrounds than with ethnic-minority backgrounds, partly because she had more personal freedom than most ethnic-minority girls in her surroundings. These memories are probably affected by time and place. It is hard to know what the participants really felt at that time. Nevertheless, we can conclude that in their current reconstructions, being-different forms a large theme and is attributed to various causes (more or less explicit mechanisms of exclusion). At the same time, participants have memories that are not characterized by difference.

Some participants attended schools or lived in neighborhoods with (some) children with other ethnic-minority backgrounds. A few participants mention that sharing an ethnic-minority background created an extra bond. Imane not only felt close to the Moroccan-Dutch girls, but also to Turkish-Dutch girls as they understood at least some of her situation and protected each other against discrimination. For a while, Hind was close with a girl who was a Jehovah's Witness. It was convenient that this girl's parents were slightly stricter than other parents, just like Hind's parents. For example, they had slightly earlier curfews than most of their classmates and thus left school parties together. In many other cases, peers with other ethnic-minority backgrounds were mentioned as 'just other friends', such as Hind's Surinamese and Belgian friends.

#### **Reflection and Responses (To 'Othering' in School or Neighborhood)**

The stories reveal that, contrary to the general use of 'ethnic outgroup', interethnic social relations are not solely characterized by dissonance. Not all participants always felt different in their schools and neighborhoods, which were dominated by ethnic Dutch. Many of the participants had friends in school with ethnic-Dutch backgrounds or other ethnic-minority backgrounds. However, as we read, feeling different was a prominent theme in many accounts of primary and secondary school periods. The stories show that exclusion, either in implicit or explicit ways, often is a very negative and impactful experience. It is related to feelings of loneliness and a lack of selfconfidence, as will be further discussed in Chap. 7. The stories parallel the stories of ethnic-majority climbers, who also often felt different from their classmates because of their aberrant clothes, housing, patterns of expenditure, language use, and human and cultural capital (Brands 1992).

A common reaction to dissonance in the form of feeling excluded was a response of concealing. Many participants mention that during their youth they tried to conceal the dimension of difference and hide their ethnic background. They described how they felt a deep wish to belong, to be regarded as 'normal'. They longed to be accepted as one of 'us' by their classmates and not be treated as the Other, the permanent outsider. One participant's response was to de-emphasize her Moroccan background in order to be as 'Dutch' as possible. Many participants employed such an approach in their schools and neighborhoods to avoid standing out, doing their utter best to adapt and fit in. This is also illustrated by Mustapha's quote:

At primary school, you are just busy trying to fit in. Trying to avoid standing out in a negative way – or in a positive way. That really hurt. – Yes, actually, you have always learned about your cultural background – to actually hide it somehow. (Mustapha)

This response is also observed in other immigrant groups, such as secondgeneration Asian Americans and Chinese British, who out of shame distanced themselves from, or even rejected, their ethnic backgrounds during their childhood and youth (Min and Kim 2000; Song 2003, pp. 211–212).

#### **6.3 Coethnic Sphere at Present. Parents and the Next Generation**

Moving to their present lives, we will see that how the participants reflect on their coethnic relationships differs from the accounts of their childhoods. The section on their peers is only brief, as this theme will be further developed in Chap. 7.

#### **Social Relations**

#### *Parents*

The participants' accounts of the current relationships with their parents focus less on dissonance than their childhood memories. Berkant strongly emphasized his appreciation of his bond with his parents. He explained how he values and loves them and how he continuously works on bridging the gap, which of course still exists. In his communication with them, he adapts to their language and worldview. After all, he is familiar with their life world, whereas they are unfamiliar with many aspects of his life. He explained that out of love, respect, and consideration, he does not confront them with issues they will never understand and therefore avoids discussing certain themes, such as his spending patterns or perspective on religion.

In the interviews, many participants raised the importance of the bonds with their parents. Most spoke lovingly about their parents. Some participants described their fathers or mothers as role models because of their endurance, strength, and solidarity with family members or their perceptiveness. This respect and appreciation is also why most participants would not say they had 'outgrown' their parents. They did not describe their parents as less intelligent or less skilled, avoiding the suggestion that parents exemplify shortcomings and failure. This might also be why several participants challenged the regular meaning of 'success' as having a high education and a high status job: to contest the implicit suggestion that people with lower education levels are failures. This is probably why Aysel reacted cynically to her selection for my study because of her higher education level, and this might be why she nuanced the relevance of education:

Apparently, I am some sort of Golden Calf. Am I? … Did you approach your target group like: these are people who won a Golden Calf…?!!

(…) but there are also many others who are VERY capable and VERY smart – My illiterate mother, she has no diplomas… but in some respects she is much smarter than I am. Much wiser. (Aysel)

Many noted that their parents had changed over time. Esra's younger siblings had 'entirely different' parents than Esra while she was growing up. They had two 'Dutch' parents who allowed them to join in school trips. Her sister was even allowed to have a relationship with a Dutch boyfriend. Aysel's parents, who made Aysel quit school to help at home, became the biggest advocates of education for their grandchildren. Parents had become more progressive, partly as a result of the struggles with their older children and the conclusion that their children's lives had turned out well, partly because of the evaporation of the prospect of return, and partly because of the increased importance of educational qualifications.

#### *Coethnic Community*

Participants occasionally mentioned the broader coethnic community. A few participants mentioned that successful coethnics are treated with suspicion by 'the coethnic community'. People such as Rotterdam mayor Aboutaleb or rapper Ali B are cited as examples. Ethnic-minority people in prestigious positions are often not taken seriously by coethnics, as they are considered too good, too slick or too Dutch. Thus, for social climbers, the balance can be intricate, as they risk alienation or ostracism from coethnics.

While some participants seem to walk a tightrope to protect their belonging as 'successful' Moroccan Dutch or Turkish Dutch, other participants seem less inclined to adapt their behavior in order to protect their belonging among coethnics. These participants keep a certain distance to 'the coethnic community' in anticipation of receiving contempt triggered by their 'too Dutch' lifestyle or out of fear that gossip will reach their parents. These participants expect that coethnics are less modern and have nothing in common with them. Karim feels a disconnection that makes him distance himself from other Moroccan Dutch or Muslims. Aside from Karim, I primarily encountered this attitude in interviews with (some) female participants. A possible explanation is the stricter behavioral norms for women, which makes women more likely to deviate from what is considered appropriate behavior. See the telling quote of a completely anonymized female participant:

At that time, I was kind of allergic to anything Moroccan. There was this group [of Moroccan-Dutch students] – that I always avoided. I feared they would be narrow-minded and would denounce me; for example because I smoked, and because I fell for Dutch boys – and that they would pass on information about me to my parents. The Moroccan community is only a small world. I still have that, actually. I don't like this close involvement. I prefer to live more anonymously, more individually.

Not all reflections on the coethnic community were negative. Some participants described that at a later age they felt an increasing need to strengthen and develop their bonds with their ethnic background and with coethnics. They started to miss something that felt essential to them—the 'ethnic part' of themselves. This is an important theme in the interviews, which will be further discussed in Chap. 7.

Some explained that their coethnic orientation shaped their societal engagement. As the situation of the coethnic next generation is still characterized by inequality and negative ethnic stereotypes are still widespread, participants regard it as their responsibility to 'give back' and help bridge the gaps. They do voluntary work with coethnic youth, support their nieces and nephews, work in diversity management, start social initiatives, and contribute to public discussions on integration.

#### *Coethnic Peers*

Coethnic peers play a large role in the adult lives of most participants. Most have many close friends who share their ethnic background. These friends also share the participants' high education level. These coethnic, co-educated friendships form an important theme, which is further explored in Chap. 7. Siblings were only mentioned sporadically in the context of the participants' adult lives.

#### **Reflection and Responses (and an Increased Wish to Belong)**

That the participants' reflections on coethnic relationships in their current lives focused more on consonance and belonging does not mean that their worldviews and normative stances are aligned with those of their parents. Rather, the participants highly value their relationships with their parents. Much effort is taken to secure and nurture these bonds and bridge disagreements. Out of love and consideration for their parents, participants evade confrontations and discussions on divergent stances ('concealing' the dissonance), or participants conform to their parents' wishes when these are about less-essential topics, for example visiting family at religious holidays. Some participants try—to some extent—to take their parents along in their lives ('convince'). For important issues, the main strategies employed were concealing and convincing instead of conformism and confrontation, which were the strategies participants mentioned more in the context of their youth. This shift seems to be a result of their increased independence and their respect and love for their parents.

These accounts contrast with the accounts of ethnic-majority climbers. In both Dutch and international literature on the social mobility of ethnic-majority climbers (see Brands 1992; Lubrano 2004; Matthys 2010) alienation from parents and family is a major theme. In their process of social mobility, climbers outgrow their parents and 'leave' them 'behind'. One of Brands' participants described melancholically:

Some people come to equal footing with their parents, despite occasional conflicts. They can really fight. They can really have a conflict. Whereas people like me outgrow our parents, and are not even capable of having a fight anymore. There is no way back. We are not even allowed to have conflicts anymore. Even a bad relationship is beyond reach. It becomes a non-relation. (Brands 1992, p. 295, translation MS)

Interestingly, alienation from parents was not a major theme in my interviews. Although in nearly all cases there was a huge distance between the participants' life worlds and those of their parents, the participants did not describe their relationships in terms of alienation and 'leaving behind'. A possible explanation is that they did not want to speak negatively about their parents. Another explanation is that participants did not have much to say about alienation, simply because the gap with their parents has always been self-evident. As children of immigrants, they have never known otherwise; ever since they could remember, there was a gap between their life worlds and those of their parents. They had always been more socially adept than their parents, who often needed support from their Dutch-speaking children to navigate their ways through Dutch society. When I asked Berkant to reflect on this interpretation, he explained:

Yes that's true. Actually, we only continue the situation we have known since our youth. For example, when my parents joined me at school and asked ME what the teacher said. Then you were the interpreter for your parents. The relationship with your parents had always been kind of weird. From very early on, your parents were not able to help you with your homework, with your issues, they just wouldn't understand. (Berkant)

This suggests that for the second-generation immigrant climbers, the gap with their parents is not primarily a consequence of their social mobility but of their migration history. All over the world, many immigrant children, particularly those with lowcapital backgrounds, act as intermediaries for their parents from early childhood because their parents have a larger distance to society than their children (Orellana 2001; Suárez-Orozco and Suárez-Orozco 2001; Pels and De Haan 2003). Some participants even felt that their high education level and social achievements helped reduce their alienation from their parents. Their success gave them 'extra credits' and helped bridge the existing gap. Their achievements increased their parents' trust and led to an increased acceptance of their identities and their choices, contributing to a closer bond and to more leeway. In other words: their educational and professional credentials formed symbolic capital in the coethnic field. Hicham's quote illustrates this:

Look, they [my parents] saw that, since I was young, I have been concerned with issues of identity. And, since I was very young, I have also been an active Muslim. In combination with success at school, and in society, etcetera, this leads to extra praise, to let's say extra credits. This shows them that you behave differently and make different choices, while being very open about it. There is no pressure on me to change things because – especially now, but also ten years ago – they see me as someone equal to them. I think this is rather unique. Nevertheless, I see this happening more and more among the higher educated; that societal success gives you the credit that enables you to shape your identity in the ways you want. (Hicham)

Even though feelings of esteem, loyalty and gratitude are also present in the stories of ethnic-majority climbers (Matthys 2010), the stories of the minority climbers seem to radiate more esteem and pride. This could be related to the 'immigrant narrative of struggle and sacrifice' that I mentioned before; see Berkant's quote:

(…) this made me feel guilty – well… maybe that's too strong… but it gave me feelings of – well…– um – INCREDIBLE loyalty towards your parents, because, they have been tremendously DEDICATED to you. (…) I admired their attitudes; because as people without much education, who have not visited many countries – that they have this mentality to go for it and get the best out of it… That must have been really hard! Been really difficult! (Berkant)

For many participants, the bonds with their parents, coethnics and the broader coethnic community seem stronger than in their childhoods. Many of their current best friends have a coethnic background (and a high education level). Several participants are actively involved in activities that intend to support the next generation and help improve the image of Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch in the Netherlands. However, relations with the coethnic community are not only described in consonant terms. Participants feel that many coethnics are less modern and experience a considerable risk of being accused of acting 'too Dutch'.

Literature on ethnic minorities helps us to further understand the complexity of belonging among coethnics. It explains why belonging to a minority community often requires a conformism that can be uncomfortable at times and why community membership simultaneously presents many benefits. It is not just ethnic majorities that think in essentialist stereotypes: ethnic-minority groups do too as thinking in stereotypes promotes intra-group cohesion and solidarity, particularly when ethnic-minority groups feel threatened (Branscombe et al. 1999; Song 2003). These stereotypes function as behavioral scripts and as bases for judgments of 'ethnic authenticity' (Carter 2003). Anyone who does not comply with the norms risks being accused of 'acting white' (see e.g. Waters 1994) or being a 'coconut' (being 'white' on the inside), leading to condemnation or even ostracism: a denial of belonging. These scripts are often gendered and often contain downward leveling norms (Portes 1998). When the scripts are strict and there are high levels of social control, they can be very restricting, particularly when they do not correspond with the preferences of the individual or when they hamper one's social mobility. At the same time, adherence to these scripts can provide a sense of belonging, social acceptance, unity and membership, and can offer access to family support and other resources though extrafamilial networks. It can be pleasant if you have a claim to distinctive ways of talking, dressing, interacting, eating (Song 2003, pp. 41, 54–55). Belonging to a coethnic community can contribute to a sense of self-determination and security about who you are.

#### **6.4 Interethnic Sphere at Present. General Climate and Work**

The interethnic sphere is an important sphere. This is where the impact of the Dutch integration debate is felt most. The moments when participants showed agitation and frustration were the moments when they reflected on their positions in broader society. These reflections often contained confusing ambiguities. Therefore, this section about the interethnic sphere in the participants' current lives is the longest section of this chapter. I first describe how the participants reflect on 'the general debate', which they learn through the media. I then focus on how they reflect on their direct interactions with interethnic others, such as colleagues. How do the participants feel and position themselves? Just like in the discussions of the other spheres, we see also here that relationships are not only consonant or dissonant, but that how participants reflect on their positions and relationships is more nuanced. This complexity leads to puzzling paradoxes, which I try to disentangle and which appear crucial for understanding the positioning and identification of the participants in interethnic settings. This discussion uncovers the important mechanism of categorization resistance. In the second half of this section, I show that in situations of dissonance and exclusion the same four strategies I described earlier can be employed: contest, conceal, convince and conform.

#### **The General Debate**

All participants explicitly label the Dutch integration debate as exclusionary. In Chap. 4 we saw that in spite of the multiplicity of voices in politics and the media, a widespread culturalist image of 'Moroccans', 'Turks' and 'Muslims' has emerged. This is exactly how the participants speak about the dominant discourse, which they perceive as offensive to people with Moroccan, Turkish, or Islamic backgrounds, pushing them into second-class status. They feel that Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch are portrayed as subordinate and as incapable and unwilling to fit into Dutch society. The participants feel subjected to intrusive and unlawful demands. Their perception is that over time, accelerated by the events of 9/11 and the murder of Dutch columnist Van Gogh, the tone has grown increasingly harsh, and there is increasingly less tolerance for multiple identifications. They experience an imposed 'mono-identity', as one of the participants called it, and find the exclusionary discourse worrying. It pushes people away, as Karim describes:

But it happens – when you hear people speak, on television or anything, about: 'The perpetrator is a Moroccan', then… I DO feel addressed, yes. Because I know… they also talk about… about ME, you know. WITHOUT even knowing me, knowing who I am, or where I grew up… When THEY say: 'Moroccans should be treated differently', I am – for THEM I am Moroccan, you know. They will look at me like: 'You have Moroccan parents. Well, yes, you also went to university, and did so and so'. But this does not matter! It doesn't matter a fuck! … When you have Moroccan parents, you should… – you know – …you should integrate. You should speak the language. You should do this, you should do that, you know. And oh dear, when you… – You should be thankful in the first place, you know – thankful that you live in the Netherlands, because after all: 'We are such a civilized country. We only try to educate you, backward Moroccans, so that you will hopefully, once, also reach some level of civilization'. (Karim)

This quote illustrates that participants not only experience the debate as a rejection of their ethnic category but also as a denial of their personal belonging in the Netherlands (see also Slootman and Duyvendak 2016). They expressed their frustration with the labeling of entire social categories as problem groups. They are convinced that they do not fit the problematized definitions of Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch, but they nevertheless feel addressed by these polarizing expressions. This feels extremely unjust and implies that they are not accepted as full-fledged citizens—and that they never will be, whatever they do and whatever they achieve. Based on these experiences, it is easy to understand how, as I indicated in Chap. 4, the political side of belonging influences the personal side of belonging. Politics of exclusion affect the extent to which people feel at home.

Despite the exclusionary tone of the debate as experienced by the participants, overt discrimination by random strangers did not surface as a major theme in the interviews. Only a few instances were mentioned. When this occurred, it fed anger and frustration and confirmed the idea that there is a negative social climate for immigrants and their children. Hicham describes such a moment:

(…) when you call home and your mother tells you she's been scolded and spit at, then something breaks inside. Like: Shit, please tell me this is NOT true… (Hicham)

#### **Social Relations with Familiar Social Others**

Interactions with others who are not strangers, such as colleagues, were described far more positively. Most participants described the context of their direct work (and other) environments in terms of belonging. They mentioned that they feel accepted and do not feel different in general:

(…) at my work, I just feel like a consultant. (Aysel)

For ME… I felt that everybody around me was the same… or similar. I didn't think that others had a totally… totally different life, or so. (…) I think, I easily feel at home anywhere. (…) I ALWAYS belong. (Hind)

My friends are very white. That's just a consequence of my education – As the saying goes: 'what you touch shall defile you' – It's that simple. (Ahmed)

Most stressed the fact that they never experienced discrimination in their professional careers. One participant mentioned she had to apply for a job extremely often, despite her excellent resume. However, she then immediately nuanced the interpretation that this is an example of discrimination.

Most participants have many friends with ethnic-Dutch backgrounds and various ethnic-minority backgrounds; which is a theme that will be further explored in Chap. 7.

Despite the clear emphasis on consonance and belonging, the participants' accounts also contained numerous ambiguities. In the interviews, either spontaneously or in response to my probes, 'feeling different' popped up frequently, albeit in more implicit, anecdotal ways. Below, Said talks about the relevance of his ethnic background for his professional work setting; it is revealing. Does Said feel different because of his Moroccan background or not? Does his ethnicity matter at all or is it insignificant? Does he want it to matter, or is it annoying when his ethnic background is deemed relevant?

Said: The fact that you are Moroccan does play a role, actually. I recently attended a training in London, where, two or three times, I discussed the fact that I am Moroccan. I actually highlight it all the [time] – I am just PROUD of it (laughs apologetically but affirmatively). I find it important to – I WANT to show that you can be both Moroccan and successful. I want to, very deliberately, show that these two CAN be combined. Whenever I can, I also say I am a Muslim. Whenever I can I say I celebrate the Ramadan. And whenever I can I say I regularly pray. And whenever I can I say that I… whatever – that I visit Morocco every year, for example. So, you know, I just try to make people realize: Wait, there's something wrong in that picture… To SHOW the right picture and to show that in your mind you are too black-and-white.

Said: This is very funny. It's weird. Recently, the course leader said to me at a leadership training: 'But YOU are the story! – you know. That you survive between all these partners, these solid, assertive, Dutch guys…!' This made me wonder: 'Is this really the case?' – Well, on the one hand it is true. He said: 'Was it difficult for you, to reach –' 'No', I said, 'not at ALL!' Well, but then… when you ask the same question to a woman… Yes, then it's also difficult. When you are just DIFFERENT from the average accountant. White. Bold. Grey. That you survive between them… That means something. Apparently. At the same time, many women leave the company when they have surpassed the managers' level. You see? So… is that culture then…? I'm not really like: culture… – Is this all about culture? I wanted to say: there are also many – well, ethnic Dutch who don't make it here.

Marieke: Do YOU feel different?

Said: No, I feel – That is the THING! That's why it kind of surprised me that this guy said: 'YOU are the story'. – WHAT: you are the story?? I've never had any problems or anything, here. Do I feel different? Well, no. I don't feel different at all, no. But sometimes…. Very occasionally, you can feel it. But that was in 2001, with those attacks. When people asked you: what do YOU think about these bombings? Which made me think: well, what do I think about these bombings? Yes, then you're suddenly labeled differently, because then, suddenly, you ARE this Muslim. THEN you find out – on such occasions, THEN you find yourself thinking: Wait… I MIGHT think that I'm just a regular… well… just a regular consultant. But others obviously just see you as THAT woman. Or THAT girl. Or… THAT Moroccan for that matter. Or, whatever. That happens sometimes. That's just part of reality.

Marieke: But apparently, you do not experience this very often, because you refer to 2001. However, you also mentioned that recent training…. That you were addressed in such a way.

Said: Yes, exactly… Yes, but that is not in a negative way, because, obviously, this guy only had positive intentions.

Said: Recently, with a distant colleague – That's the thing… there is really no – This guy, he made some sort of 'joke', about Moroccans. Well, it was kind of funny – Well no, I actually didn't even like the joke (laughs). But I mean, those things happen regularly. So, I responded with a joke. Later, when I met him again, again he made a similar joke. So I jokingly said: 'Jeezz… you KEEP making the wrong jokes!' (laughs). Later, I spoke to him over the phone, about a Moroccan-Dutch colleague, who had been an entrepreneur. This guy says: 'Ha ha ha! He sure ran a shawarma place…!' (…) But for the rest, it was just a nice guy. He just doesn't understand that – well – that he makes the wrong jokes. You know, it's not always discrimination, but people just don't get it…

As I discuss below, this account is confusing because of its apparent incongruities regarding the role of ethnic background and regarding feelings of belonging and differential treatment. Many of the participants' accounts were puzzling because, like Said, they frequently seemed to contradict themselves. This surprised me, as all participants were highly reflective, particularly about topics of ethnicity and exclusion, which made it likely that they would notice (and solve) real contradictions themselves.

The analysis of the ambiguities in Said's interview and in the other interviews revealed four interesting paradoxes that appeared crucial for understanding the role of minority ethnicity in interethnic situations.


*Paradox 1. Ethnic difference, but not 'different'.* Said emphasized that he does not feel different from his ethnic-Dutch colleagues, which seems to imply that his ethnic background does not play a role in his professional context. At the same time, his ethnic identity appears highly relevant, as he frequently seizes the opportunity in his 'white' working environment to highlight his ethnic and religious background. This is not as incongruous as it seems. Bringing forward his Moroccan and Muslim background does not necessarily mean he is dissimilar from his ethnic-Dutch colleagues. Rather, it seems that it is the similarity in particular that makes him stress his ethnic identity and religion. Because his professional status makes him similar to his colleagues and accepted, he can show that being (partly) Moroccan and being Muslim does not matter in relevant ways. His success enables him to show that being 'Moroccan' as well as a practicing Muslim does not preclude a person from being a successful professional, fitting into the professional environment, and being oriented towards Dutch society. It makes him the right person to challenge the widespread negative stereotypes about 'Moroccans' and Muslims. The fact that he has 'proven' himself and achieved a relatively secure financial and social status allows him to feel more confident about his ethnic-minority identity.

*Paradox 2. Exclusion, but no 'discrimination'*. Said's reflections on differential treatment are equally puzzling. Does he regularly experience exclusionary practices or not? At first glance, it seems Said does not experience discrimination. He did not label his colleague's bad jokes and the remark 'YOU are the success story' as discrimination. He emphasized that the bad joke was 'not discrimination' and that the course leader had only positive intentions. To illustrate that he was sometimes treated differently, he gave no recent examples and fell back on a memory from 2001. Closer inspection reveals another interpretation. After the statement that the bad joke was not discrimination, Said proceeds with a 'but', implying a reassessment. Furthermore, how he challenged the course leader's remark that his trajectory exemplified a Moroccan success story indicates that this 'compliment' invoked his resistance. The way that Said spoke about these occasions suggests that he would rather not be singled out. Being singled out is exclusionary, even if intensions are positive. Various other interviews illustrated how complex it can be to interpret the relevance of one's ethnic background for the situation at hand and to label situations as discriminatory. For example, being asked if she remembered an instance of discrimination, Hind mentioned that she once was singled out for a check for explosives at the airport. However, she immediately nuanced her interpretation of the anecdote as discrimination by giving a counterexample about something similar happening to an ethnic-Dutch colleague. Furthermore, what is felt as exclusion can differ between persons, as the following contrast between Karim and Hind shows. Karim explained that he always feels terribly excluded when he is invited for drinks. He hates receptions. He feels out of place and does not know how to behave, which he attributes to his Moroccan upbringing and the fact that he—'unlike the Dutch'—does not drink alcohol. He sees having drinks as an utterly 'Dutch' practice and perceives such an invitation as a 'test' to prove his Dutchness. Just like Karim, Hind does not drink alcohol, but she indicated that this has never been an issue for her. It did not stop her from attending parties and receptions or participating in a student sorority, and she emphasized she never felt like an outsider because of this.

These examples show that (1) being singled out can be a negative experience in itself, even if the intention of the other is positive, and (2) it can be difficult to give meaning to such instances of subtle Othering and label them as discrimination. The relevance of an ethnic-minority background can be complex for minority individuals to interpret. Do you feel singled out? Is there real evidence of exclusion? Is it deliberate? What do you gain by interpreting the situation as exclusion? Dealing with subtle practices of Othering can be difficult because situations are often not clear-cut examples of overt exclusion. It can be hard to assess if a situation really is an instance of discrimination or if it is something that could happen to anyone. Such a situation is even more ambiguous when the other person does not have negative intentions. The fact that the anti-racist discourse is marginalized in the Netherlands might also complicate the interpretation of exclusionary practices. We read in Chap. 4 that raising issues of discrimination often arouses criticism or offensiveness. In addition to the fuzziness of a situation and the political marginalization of the antiracist discourse, there are also psychological and social reasons for not labeling a situation as discrimination, such as a need to protect and enhance self-esteem and a desire to believe that the system is just and that one is treated fairly (Major and O'Brien 2005, p. 401). One might furthermore refrain from labeling a situation as discrimination to avoid being seen as 'overly sensitive', a 'complainer', or a 'victim'. It can feel inappropriate to complain when others offer a compliment or 'just' make a joke, even though such treatments can be annoying—or ambiguous at the least.

That said, not all occasions are equally ambiguous, and not all participants are equally hesitant to label situations as exclusionary. Esra, for example, showed no reservation in labeling more implicit practices of Othering as exclusionary:

You stand out. The first thing people ask you – Like after September 11th, the first thing my colleague asked the next morning: 'Do you have any family in the United States?' All she wants is to talk about THAT… That really makes you realize that – I am not a Muslim… I'm not even raised as one. I KNOW I have my roots in a Muslim community, but I am not even religious myself. – And those attacks were carried out by Saudis… And then they ask ME… – That really is just an attempt to start a conversation. That makes me think: 'Halloooo… there's 12 or 14 million other people around here who possibly have family in the US…' Well, that just shows that you always… ARE… different. (Esra)

*Paradox 3. Ethnic self* -*identification, but aversion to ethnic ascription.* The previous points relate to another puzzling aspect in Said's story: the contrast between ethnicity in Said's own communication towards others and ethnicity in others' communication towards him. He explained that he frequently highlights his ethnic identity and religion at his work place to disprove negative stereotypes. At the same time, when others refer to his ethnic background (for example in the 'success-story compliment'), he explicitly questions and nuances the relevance of his background. Apparently, it feels different when one self-identifies in certain terms than when one is externally identified in these terms by someone else.

Participants are clearly reluctant to accept being addressed by others in terms of their minority identities, whether expressed in ethnic or religious terms. Instances of what I call 'categorization resistance' pop up frequently in all interviews, independent of one's self-identification. Participants are critical of instances of being singled out based on their ethnic background or religion. They question the role of ethnic background when they feel 'culture' is automatically taken as the primary explanation of a social phenomenon. They stress the irrelevance of ethnic background and religion in particular occasions. More than once in the interviews, their choices for coethnic or co-religious friends or partners are labeled as 'coincidental'. There are various ways in which participants try to counterbalance the persistent focus on ethnicity.

What causes this categorization resistance? How can we understand participants' reluctance to accept being addressed by others in terms of their minority backgrounds, even when they themselves stress the importance of their ethnic backgrounds? Social psychologists Branscombe et al. (1999, p. 36) explain that being categorized against one's will—what they call 'categorization threat'—can lead to depression and can actually harm the performances of people, particularly when corresponding group images are negative and connected to assumptions of poor ability (see also Ellemers et al. 2002; Major and O'Brien 2005; Meyer 2003). Ellemers and colleagues offer three explanations for the frustration caused by external categorization that are useful for explaining the categorization resistance of the participants in my study. Their explanations are (1) one is pre-judged in terms of one's category membership instead of seen as a unique individual and judged on personal characteristics and merits; (2) the particular categorization is irrelevant to the actual situation, or one feels that additional categorizations should also be taken into account; and, (3) a lack of personal control when others impose a certain categorization. I show that these explanations also underlie the categorization resistance encountered in my interviews. In addition, I suggest a related fourth explanation.

A main reason for categorization resistance in the interviews is *prejudgment*. Participants prefer to be seen as holistic, multifaceted persons with various individual strengths and weaknesses and not be reduced to the singular image that accompanies the label 'Moroccan', 'Turk', 'Muslim' or 'foreigner'. See for example Karim's quote:

There's no one who appreciates me for who I AM… And now [as successful minorities] we simply have changed into new stereotypes – just like before, you know. We are still not people. (…) this ethnic identity suddenly becomes your real identity, you know. (Karim)

It is particularly disturbing to be reduced to a singular image when a label is connected to negative stereotypes (Goffman 1990 [1963]), as is the case in the Netherlands, where the labels 'Moroccan', 'Turk' and 'Muslim' have negative connotations and are all used in opposition to being Dutch. These labels are used to label minorities as outsiders and to emphasize their supposed affiliation with co-categorical others. Such prejudgments happen, for example, when participants are asked what they 'as Moroccans' think of a 'Moroccan' thief or how they 'as Muslims' see the terrorist attacks of 9/11. Rejecting the label is a way to reject accompanying insinuations and expectations and to resist being equated with an entire category.

The second reason for categorization resistance in the interviews is *inaccuracy* (resembling the second explanation of Ellemers and colleagues). In Dutch politics and media, 'culture' and 'religion' are often taken as explanations for a wide range of social problems such as criminality, obnoxious street youth, gender inequality, and homophobia. Participants seem to be aware of this mechanical culturalist view, this 'ethnic lens'. As it tends to obscure more relevant social mechanisms, participants counter this ethnic lens. They carefully consider whether particular events really can be explained by ethnic background and religion (and really need to be labeled 'Moroccan' or 'Islamic') or if other social mechanisms offer more accurate explanations. Remember Emir's critical reflection on the relevance of (ethnic-minority) culture in explaining failings and successes in his professional field:

(…) is that culture then…? I'm not really like: culture… – Is this all about culture? (Said)

The third reason for categorization resistance is *denial of agency*. The previous explanations for categorization resistance do not explain why participants resist external identification when they assert their identifications in the same terms. Ellemers and colleagues provide an insightful explanation: the reduction of individual agency. The external ascription of a specific label deprives individuals of the freedom to present themselves as they want to, which can feel highly uncomfortable. Categorization resistance can be an effort to resist external coercion and maintain control over one's own image and position.

The fourth reason for categorization resistance, which I add to the three explanations of Ellemers and colleagues, is *denial of belonging*. This is related to the first and the third points, but I think it needs to be mentioned separately. A strong downside of external identification is that you are appointed the position of the Other and thus are not classified as one of 'us'. This denial of belonging not only occurs when one is labeled as 'Moroccan' by ethnic Dutch but also when one is labeled as being 'too Dutch' by Moroccan Dutch. Categorization resistance can be a reaction to exclusion, an effort to claim one's belonging.3

*Paradox 4. Awareness, but nevertheless employment of essentialist language.* After the discussion of the third paradox of categorization resistance, we come to the last paradox in the interviews: the use of ethnic labels. All participants (except two, who occasionally used 'Moroccan Dutch'/'Turkish Dutch') employed the labels 'Moroccan', 'Turkish' and 'Dutch' in reference to other people without considering it problematic. This is surprising, considering the participants' awareness of the overly simplistic and polarizing use of ethnic categories in the dominant discourse and their resistance to being pushed into ethnic categories. My own, sometimes slightly awkward, attempts in the interviews to refer to 'Moroccan Dutch', 'Turkish Dutch', 'Dutch with a Moroccan or Turkish background' and 'children of immigrants' did not affect this use. (I subsequently decided to adopt the terminology of each participant.) The participants even applied these straight ethnic labels to themselves, while at other moments in the interview they disputed the applicability of the same labeling. The following quotes of Aysel and Ahmed illustrate the ambiguous language use:

Marieke: Because… – What is for you… – Because you say: I am Turkish… – Are you… more Turkish than Dutch…? Or can't I say such a thing…?

Aysel: No, I think – Well, that somehow depends on – In Turkey I feel more Dutch, and in the Netherlands I feel more Turkish; let's phrase it THIS way.

(…)

Marieke: And about being Dutch… Do you think – when you just speak for yourself – that your jobs and education have made you more or less Dutch?

Aysel: These questions are really not the questions that occupy my mind. It's not important. (…) I simply don't consider such issues! These are not the questions – It is NOT interesting: Am I more Turkish or Dutch?

Ahmed: You really shouldn't ask me: do you feel more Dutch or Moroccan. That's really nonsense.

(…)

Ahmed: (…) if I had to place my identification on a scale with two extremes, I think I would be at the very Dutch end.

<sup>3</sup>Branscombe, Ellemers and colleagues call this denial of belonging 'acceptance threat'. However, they only apply acceptance threat to the context of the ethnic 'ingroup', and they do not recognize this as an aspect of categorization threat, also applying to interethnic contexts (Branscombe et al. 1999).

Why do the participants apply these labels in essentialist ways if they are conscious of the constructed character and of the possibly harmful implications of doing so? The mixing of more essentialized and de-essentialized terms appears to be a broader phenomenon. Among the various immigrant communities in the Southall neighborhood of London that he studied, Baumann notices a similar mixing of reifying and de-essentializing language, which he calls 'double discursive competence' (1996). The Southall people alternately employed a 'dominant' discourse, in which ethnic categories were equated with social groups and each group was identified with a reified culture, and a 'demotic' discourse, which had developed among the people themselves and was used to renegotiate 'culture' and 'community' (ibid., p. 188). The Southallians reified and at the same time undid their reifications (Baumann 1999, p. 140). Baumann offers various explanations for this double discursive competence that can help us understand the double discursive competence of the Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch participants. The explanations that are most applicable in my case are the psychological tendency and the political and social currency. As we have read in Chap. 2, people have a general tendency to categorize in order to make sense of the world (1996, p. 193). This means that participants use reified language because this partly reflects how they perceive the world. In addition, the participants do not have an alternative language at their disposal for communicating with others. Reified ethnic categories are dominant ingredients of the language available for making sense of the world. As Baumann explains in the Southall case, the essentialist discourse is the 'hegemonic language', favored by dominant institutions and agents, which therefore forms the 'currency' within which ethnic minorities must deal with the establishment (ibid., p. 192). This means that the language used in the general discourses, both among ethnic majorities as well as among ethnic minorities, makes it nearly impossible for the participants not to think and talk in the straight categories 'Moroccan', 'Turkish', and 'Dutch'.

The critical awareness of the essentialization of ethnic categories does not extend to culture in the same way. Whereas the participants seem to acknowledge that 'the Moroccan' or 'the Turk' does not exist, we saw in Chap. 5 that they speak in unreflective terms about what is typically 'Dutch' (e.g. individuality, professionalism) and what is typically 'Moroccan' or 'Turkish' (e.g. hospitality, emotionality, social connectedness). Baumann presents a similar observation: 'In the parlance of most Southallians, the meaning of *culture* is not nearly as negotiable as the meaning of community (…) Most Southallians are in most contexts hesitant to use the word *culture* in its de-essentialized sense' (1996, p. 196, italics in original). Baumann explains that the definition of an ethnic group relies on what is seen as its culture. Applying this to my case, I would say that participants do not deconstruct culture like they sometimes do with identifications because in order to expose varieties and changes in identifications, they need anchored concepts to compose their argument. You can only claim you are '*partly* Moroccan' when 'Moroccan' has a fixed meaning. Apparently, it is hard to deconstruct multiple concepts at the same time.

#### **Reflection and Responses (to Subtle Practices of 'Othering')**

How participants feel and identify in social settings, such as their work places, is a complex issue. Although they emphasize their belonging in their professional environments, their stories contain many examples of subtle practices of exclusion (see also Waldring et al. 2014). Being labeled as 'Moroccan' or 'Turkish' is disturbing for various reasons. These exclusionary instances of Othering excite categorization resistance because they reduce individuals to a singular identity, suggest a prioritization of cultural explanations, deny personal agency, and emphasize the individual's non-belonging to the context at hand or to the Netherlands in general.

Interestingly, ethnic-Dutch climbers also describe feelings of insecurity about their belonging in their middle-class work environments. Ethnic-Dutch climbers feel different from their colleagues because they perceive a gap in social and cultural capital, communication, presentation, and knowledge (Brands 1992; Matthys 2010); in other words, their habitus is not aligned with the professional field. These climbers feel especially rejected when middle-class others are ignorant about life worlds that are different from than their own, as this confirms the middle-class standards being the undisputed norm from which they deviate (Matthys 2010, p. 334). The ethnic-Dutch climbers interpret their lack of belonging in terms of a habitus mismatch as a consequence of their working-class background. This contrasts with the stories of the ethnic-minority participants in two ways. Firstly, despite their working-class background, the participants less explicitly attribute their compromised belonging to a habitus mismatch, but more to exclusionary labeling. It could be that this theme was insufficiently discussed in the interview, or that this reflects mechanisms of external attribution, or that the exclusionary effect of the labeling indeed overshadows the habitus mismatch. Possibly, for the minority climbers, the switching between fields has become second nature, thus reducing the effect of a habitus mismatch. As we will see in Chap. 7, the participants indeed have developed a reflexive habitus (Reay et al. 2009; Sweetman 2003) or a 'chameleon habitus' (Abrahams and Ingram 2013). Secondly, when participants explicitly mention a habitus mismatch, like Karim in the context of receptions, they attribute their discomfort to their ethnic background rather than to their class background.

A set of responses to unwanted external categorization emerges from the interviews, paralleling the responses I described before (conform, convince, conceal, and contest, which I discuss here in reverse order).4 These responses roughly resemble the responses to unwanted categorization identified by Ellemers and colleagues (Branscombe et al. 1999; Ellemers et al. 2002), which are (1) challenging the presumed stereotypical relation between category membership and behavior (similar to 'convincing' and 'contesting'), (2) 'disidentification' with the category of the ascription (concealing), and (3) strengthening one's identification with the category of the external ascription (conforming).

(1) *Contest: challenge the external categorization.* One way to respond to unwanted external categorization is to explicitly challenge or deny the exclusively

<sup>4</sup>I suggest that this classification of approaches can be applied to any situation of dissonance as it is based on how the gap between two diverging stances is bridged.

ethnic identification. This can be done by refusing the ethnic label—as we have seen in the discussion of 'categorization resistance'. Another way is to explicitly emphasize one's Dutchness. Such claims of Dutchness occur in the interview with Adem who underlines the indisputability of his Dutchness in what seems to be a reaction to the implicit suggestion that he is not Dutch:

Marieke: When I ask you: 'Are you Dutch?' What would you say? Adem: Um…. I am – Well… That JUST depends on what you call Dutch, doesn't it?? Marieke: What do YOU call Dutch?

Adem: I feel I do MORE than enough for THIS country, more than the average Dutch person. And I would defend this country MORE than enough. And I DO. So, when THIS is the condition for being Dutch, I am Dutch for one thousand percent. (Adem)

Another way to challenge the supposed singular character of identification is by challenging the stereotypical idea that identification as Dutch and Moroccan/Turkish are mutually exclusive by stressing one's 'bi-culturality' and explaining the value of 'bi-culturality'.

I feel REALLY blessed in that respect. I really feel blessed that I have two countries where I can live, and that I feel at home in both countries. That's a REAL privilege. (Berkant)

(2) *Conceal: avoid external categorization by disidentification.* Another set of responses aims to entirely avoid the unwanted external categorization as ethnic. To avoid being Othered, some try to hide or de-emphasize their minority identity in order to 'pass' for a member of a different category. We have seen that these strategies were common for many participants during their childhood when they wanted to downplay or even conceal their ethnicities. Yet, as we saw in the discussion on categorization resistance, in their adulthood, participants sometimes refrain from labeling themselves as Turkish or Moroccan. Karim's quote shows that he made a deliberate move from emphasizing to de-emphasizing his minority identity:

Karim: After a while, I was done with being a minority. Just like my friend. (…) We felt that we became like stereotypes… instead of real people…

Marieke: And then you kind of 'undid' your minority status?

Karim: Then, I undid my minority status. Um… yes, over time I did so.5

A way to de-emphasize one's ethnic identity is to designate the ethnic categorization as irrelevant to the situation at hand by stressing other dimensions, such as one's professional identity, as we have already seen with Aysel:

Marieke: En toen ben je minder 'allochtoon' geworden?

Karim: Toen ben ik minder allochtoon geworden. Ehm, ja steeds minder eigenlijk.

<sup>5</sup>Literally, the conversation was:

Karim: Ik was op een gegeven moment klaar met het allochtoon zijn. En [die vriend] ook, zeg maar. Die ging gek genoeg ook door dezelfde fases als die ik ging. (…) Want hij voelde ook dat we op een gegeven moment stereotypen werden, zeg maar, in plaats van echte mensen…

– In Turkey I feel more Dutch, and in the Netherlands I feel more Turkish; let's phrase it THIS way. But at my work, I just feel like a consultant. (Aysel)

Another approach for designating the ethnic categorization as irrelevant is pointing to one's individuality, emphasizing the futility of categorizing people:

Well… you just switch somewhat, you know. You want – At some moments you really strive to belong. Then you want to be EITHER Dutch OR really Moroccan. At other moments, you feel extremely rebellious and you think: 'You know what? NEVER MIND! I am who I am. I just don't care. It's a bit of a compromise… (Karim)

Well… I'm not like a standard employee or anything. I somewhat divert from the standard. But that's fine. They have to take me as I am (…). I am Moroccan and Dutch. I am who I am, I cannot separate these things. (Imane)

(3) *Convince: challenge the applied stereotype.* Others take up the challenge. They try to influence the debate and change the widespread negative stereotypes. They publish articles, start social initiatives, or enter 'white' bulwarks to bridge the gap between the ethnic minority and the rest of society. They try and 'convince' the audience that the stereotypical assumptions are untrue and misleading. To show that negative stereotypes of the ethnic group are too negative and simplistic and certainly do not apply to all members of the specific category, it is crucial to highlight both one's ethnic-minority background *and* one's success (measured against dominant standards). This is why—as we have read—Said accentuates his 'Moroccan' and 'Muslim' side whenever he can in order to show that these characteristics can, indeed, be combined with achieving success. This strategy of showing sociallydesired behavior to change negative stereotypes appears to be common. It is the most commonly applied behavior by the Moroccan-Dutch students in the study by De Jong (2012, p. 79); Ketner's Moroccan-Dutch respondents also frequently employ this approach (2010).

Another way to challenge negative stereotypes is to 'play' with stereotypical images. The aim is to trigger critical reflection and make the audience reconsider their simplistic assumptions by behaving in stereotypical ways with a twist…:

I remember, once – I was with friends in the train at peak hour, the train was packed – that we started to speak Dutch with such awful, faltering accents. ON PURPOSE, just to shock people. And meanwhile, we just said incredibly smart things, you know (both laughing). To trigger people, so they think: 'Huh??' You know. Just to, kind of, annoy them. To make them REALIZE: 'There's something wrong here… These kids are saying really intelligent stuff. But with an awful accent.' On purpose! (Said)

This is how I also interpret Said's sudden remark at the end of what had been a pleasant interview:

Well, what do you think of my Dutch?? Isn't it faultless?? (Said)

His remark amazed me and made me feel extremely uncomfortable, as it never occurred to me that as a higher-educated person with a high status job he would not speak Dutch well, and I would never have wanted to give him this impression. This remark might be seen as a cynical way to make me aware of the absurd presumptions he often encounters.

(4) *Conform: increase identification with the category of ascription.* The variety of responses demonstrates that individuals often have agency over how they identify in many situations. However, even though external categorizations do not completely pin people down, individual agency is not unlimited. The influence of external categorizations can be extreme and often cannot be ignored. When external categorizations occur, they need to be dealt with in one way or the other. Categorizations can be overwhelming, and attempts to challenge these might simply seem futile. Individuals do not always feel the freedom or have the energy to challenge them. In these cases, conforming to these ascribed categorizations—at least in how one presents oneself—might seem like the best option. It is a way to protect one's self-esteem (Ellemers et al. 2002). Consequently, participants sometimes present themselves according to the ascribed ethnic label, even if they do not entirely feel this way. This is also observed in other studies (see for example De Jong 2012; Eijberts 2013; Omlo 2011; Van der Welle 2011). Ahmed explains:

Actually, now I think about it… Nine out of ten times I am not addressed as Dutch, but as Moroccan [by ethnic Dutch], whereas inside I feel like a Dutch Moroccan, both. (…) Look, I actually do not call myself Dutch, because you are not seen as Dutch. (Ahmed)

The pressure to identify in a certain way can also lead to an increased identification with the ethnic or religious identity on a deeper level, for example, when focusing on being Turkish, Moroccan, or Muslim makes one more conscious of one's ethnicminority identity and religion. Rumbaut calls this a 'reactive ethnicity' (2008). This is also what De Koning (2008) and Ketner (2009, 2010) notice in relation to religious identification among Moroccan-Dutch youth. The social importance of ethnicity (or religion) may lead one to further explore these identities, and it can make these identifications more salient, as Hicham's quote illustrates:

Before, people were much less aware of their being Moroccan or Muslim, they possessed multiple identities. It was more dynamic; it was just how you felt at a particular moment. In the afternoon, at the snack bar with your peers, you use slang, while in the evening with your mom, you speak Berber. Currently, it happens that one identity becomes more and more prominent. That you are Moroccan or Muslim becomes imprinted as the most prominent identity. I feel pushed into this identity, by people questioning me about it, or write about it in the papers, and those who study the second and third generation, whatever. That makes me think about my identity and wonder: 'What actually IS my identity?' Then I suddenly have to make decisions, whereas, before, my identity was like: it all fits together. (…) Now it seems like some sort of a make-or-breakpoint. It is almost like: 'Take it or leave it, it belongs with me and it's important to me'. Things that you were not aware of, previously, become more and more important. (Hicham)

External pressure can also lead to an increased association with a coethnic or co-religious community. Bouchra explained that as a result of her experiences of exclusion from Dutch society, she only feels truly welcomed and accepted by the worldwide Islamic community (Ummah).

On an even deeper level, being categorized as 'Moroccan' or 'Turkish' and as 'non-Dutch' can lead to the internalization of this view and to a weakening identification as Dutch. When people do not feel accepted for who they are, this might lead to a reconsideration of their belonging in Dutch society and doubts about whether their future is in the Netherlands. Will they and their children really be happy here? Aysel's feelings of belonging changed over time:

(…) For a long while, I thought: 'We are Dutch… This society is ours…'. Fortuyn's murder sort of – I started to realize: 'You are an immigrant and you will remain one, FOREVER. Whatever happens'. (…) So I told my children: 'You might THINK that you can be like Jan or Piet [which are typically Dutch names], but you should really know: If you're involved in something – in the bus, or on a street corner – you are much more likely to be seen as a troublemaker than Piet or Jan… Always be aware of your position in a society.' (Aysel)

Sometimes, the idea that one is 'Moroccan' and therefore is not Dutch is even too internalised to be problematized, as Hind's quote illustrates:

I KNOW I'm darker and everything, but I am not fully aware of it myself… (laughs). Sometimes, when I am abroad, I happen to say: 'I'm Dutch'. Then they respond with: 'Are you DUTCH??' 'Um, no, sorry, sorry, sorry, I am Moroccan…' (laughs). You know… that I just forget for a moment… (Hind)

The occurrence of this response of 'conforming', when ethnic labeling by others leads individuals to apply the label to themselves or even to further strengthen their broader coethnic orientation, shows the reverse (or perverse) effect of the culturalist and emotive integration discourse. The consistent labeling of immigrants and their offspring as the ethnic Other often leads them to identify as such. This then forms yet another reason for exclusion, as all citizens are required to feel Dutch and identify as Dutch in order to belong (see also Slootman and Duyvendak 2015). Other studies show that feelings of exclusion hamper national identification (Ersanilli 2009; Georgiadis and Manning 2013). This illustrates how the personal side of belonging is affected by politics of belonging (see also Slootman and Duyvendak 2018).

#### **6.5 The Role of Education, Ethnic Background, Gender and Religion**

Obviously, no individual and no context is the same. Nevertheless, the interviews reveal trends that are indicative of the roles that social mobility, ethnic background, gender, generation, and religion play in various cases. Based on the empirical material presented in this chapter, I will show that social mobility affects social bonds and responses in unexpected ways. Furthermore, I will point to parallels with the experiences of ethnic-majority climbers which show that experiences that are recounted in comparable terms are interpreted in different interpretive frameworks. I will also briefly touch upon the roles of gender, ethnic background, and generation. The section concludes with a note on the meaning of religion in the context of ethnicity and ethnic identification.

#### **Social Mobility. Refuting Common Assumptions**

In the participants' stories, high education levels and a middle-class status appear to shape the participants' belonging and their self-identifications in particular ways. Their social mobility makes the participants feel that they have proven themselves as valuable individuals, citizens, and ethnic-minority citizens in particular (see also Buitelaar 2009, p. 53). They have proven themselves to themselves, their families, and society at-large. Achieving a higher education level and a middle-class status seem to enhance belonging, creating special opportunities, both in coethnic and interethnic contexts. It serves as symbolic capital.

As explained in the theoretical chapter, Chap. 2, straight-line integration theories predict that socioeconomic advancement of ethnic minorities generally leads to weaker ethnic identification and a growing gap with coethnics. This chapter offers no support for this view. The participants do not account for an unequivocally widening gap with coethnics due to their social mobility. For them, as (the eldest) children of Moroccan and Turkish immigrants, a gap between their own life worlds and those of their parents had always been a given. Ever since they were young, they had been more oriented towards and familiar with Dutch society than their parents, regardless of their rising education levels. Contrary to the projections based on classical integration theories, but also contrary to experiences of ethnic-Dutch social climbers, the participants' social advancement did not seem to further widen the gap with their parents. Instead, their educational achievements helped to somewhat bridge the gap. Their achievements made their parents proud and increased their parents' trust in them. It even helped to slightly increase the freedom their parents allowed them. In other words, their social mobility can be seen to contribute to their belonging among coethnics. (This is particularly true for the relations with parents, as participants sometimes confronted suspicion from other coethnics.) Additionally, as we have seen—and as I further discuss in Chap. 7—processes of social mobility did not generally result in a weak ethnic identification or a distancing from coethnics. Instead, many participants spoke of an increasing ethnic identification during their process of mobility and had many coethnic (and higher-educated) friends.

With respect to interethnic contexts, in line with classic integration theories, it is widely assumed that higher education leads to assimilation and belonging.Moroccan-Dutch students hope that climbing the social ladder will finally result in their being acknowledged as valuable citizens (De Jong 2012). However, the idea that social mobility makes ethnic-minority backgrounds irrelevant needs nuancing. First of all, the interviews show that attaining higher education levels does not prevent feelings of exclusion. Most participants regularly experience subtle practices of Othering. Interpreting and responding to these practices is complicated, but they nevertheless feel exclusionary. This is particularly frustrating because the participants themselves do not feel different from others, such as their colleagues, in any aspect relevant to the situation at hand. They feel Dutch and are skilled professionals. Despite these experiences of dissonance, the participants primarily reflect on their daily interethnic interactions in terms of belonging.<sup>6</sup>

<sup>6</sup>This differs from findings of other studies, such as the study of De Jong (2012). The Moroccan Dutch students in her study often feel insecure in their daily interactions with ethnic Dutch, as they assume that most of the ethnic Dutch agree with Wilders' view and have negative associations with 'Moroccans'.

Secondly, it appears that having a high education level enhances the need and widens the opportunity for the participants to articulate their ethnic-minority background in interethnic settings. As social climbers, the participants are in a particular position that enables them to challenge negative stereotypes, to disprove them. Their successful position (measured against dominant social standards) makes them appointed persons to challenge negative stereotypes and show that being 'Moroccan', 'Turkish', or 'Muslim' does not preclude social mobility and full participation in society. Their position as social climbers increases the chances that they are heard and taken seriously. It not only instills in them some sort of responsibility to highlight their ethnic identity, but also *enables* them to highlight their ethnic identity. Given the acceptance based on their achieved positions, the minority climbers can accentuate their 'deviant' characteristic without immediately threatening their position of belonging. This leads many ethnic-minority members to sometimes highlight their ethnic background, not despite but *because of* their positions as social climbers, because of the accumulated symbolic capital.

#### **Ethnic Background. Exposing an Ethnic Lens**

The comparison with ethnic-majority climbers made throughout the chapter reveals many interesting parallels. Both types of stories demonstrate struggles with belonging in two fields, the home field and the middle-class professional field. As children, ethnic-majority climbers also felt the ambiguous pressures from their parents to succeed, on the one hand, but stay close and not become alienated on the other hand. They have to deal with a similar gap between their life worlds and the life worlds of their parents. And like many of the ethnic-minority climbers, ethnic-majority climbers often feel out of place in their school and work settings. In these struggles of belonging, educational success is a means of achieving belonging for ethnic-majority climbers too. For example, educational achievements form a way of proving both to their classmates and to themselves that they indeed belong at a higher educational institution (Brands 1992, p. 119). Again in their later lives, professional achievements help counter the uncomfortable perception that one is seen as an intruder (1992, p. 233). Another interesting parallel is the unease that is felt at receptions. Recall that for Karim, being invited to receptions felt like an outright confrontation with his Moroccan 'foreignness'. At these 'typically Dutch' receptions, he felt completely out of place, which he attributed to his Moroccan upbringing. The ethnic-Dutch climbers in Matthys' study (2010, p. 221, 327) also feel uncomfortable at receptions. They feel awkward and incapable of having informal conversations because of their unfamiliarity with the prevalent communication codes at receptions.

Apparently, minority climbers and majority climbers have many experiences in common that result from their trajectory of social mobility into the majoritydominated middle-class field. However, while majority climbers attribute these experiences to their working-class background, minority climbers—who also have a working-class background—attribute these experiences to their ethnic-minority background. While the similarities with the majority climbers suggest that their experiences result, at least partly, from their working-class background, their frame of interpretation is ethnic. This demonstrates the dominance of the ethnic frame or 'ethnic lens'. The participants have a worldview in which ethnic background is a primary marker, a worldview that mirrors the dominant discourse.

#### **Gender and Ethnic Background. The Relevance of Generation**

Besides education level, what role do other dimensions play in experiences of belonging and practices of identification of second-generation climbers? Gender and the specific ethnic background (having Moroccan or Turkish parents) do not seem to influence the stories regarding the themes discussed in this chapter. The parallel occurrence of consonance and dissonance, both in coethnic as well as in interethnic settings, applies to both men and women and to participants with Moroccan and Turkish backgrounds. Regardless of gender and ethnic background, they aim for belonging in the various situations, and they have the same choice of approaches for responding to dissonance. In addition, the role of social mobility does not seem different for participants in these various categories.

This does not mean that gender and the specific ethnic-minority background do not matter. The gendered images of a typical 'Moroccan' or 'Turk' do influence the experiences of second-generation climbers. Many participants mentioned that female siblings have less freedom than male siblings or receive less encouragement in their educational paths. However, when we look at individual cases, the picture is more complex. Yes, the strictest upbringings were those of women, but some men were also raised relatively strictly. There were also women who experienced relatively greater freedom, just like some of the male participants. The small sample and the observed variation does not allow me to draw straightforward conclusions about the role of gender. Nevertheless, considering the different stereotypes of Moroccan/Turkish/Muslim women and men in the dominant integration discourse (respectively as subordinate victims and abusive perpetrators), it is surprising that gender does not pop up in the interviews as a major theme in interethnic contexts. Only Bouchra refers to the gendered prejudices she encounters.

Comparing the Moroccan-Dutch with the Turkish-Dutch participants, I observe two differences in support of the literature describing the Turkish Dutch as generally more cohesive than Moroccan Dutch and in support of the results of Chap. 5 (that ethnic identification on average is more profound for Turkish Dutch). Turkish-Dutch participants grew up in close connection with children of befriended Turkish families. This contrasts with the stories of Moroccan-Dutch participants, who did not report on such close coethnic family relations even though their parents did seem to have connections with other coethnic parents. Nevertheless, a frequent interaction among Turkish-Dutch children does not automatically imply that these children were also close friends (as Esra related), nor that their presence fully alleviated the burdens of discrimination (Berkant). Furthermore, there is a difference in the use of the parental language, as the Turkish-Dutch participants spoke their parental language much more frequently (both with siblings as well as with Turkish-Dutch peers) than the Moroccan Dutch. This is in line with observations in other studies; see Chap. 4.

Actually, it seems that generation matters more than gender and ethnic background. Many of the participants' experiences are characteristic of their growing up shortly after the moment of migration: witnessing their parents' hardships and sacrifices, the looming expectation of return to Morocco and Turkey, the parental inexperience in Dutch society and the lack of support, the relative strictness of their parents; but also the dominance of ethnic Dutch in their schools and neighborhoods (particularly at the higher education levels) and the lack of successful coethnic role models in Dutch society. The centrality of these immigration experiences distinguishes the 'early' second generation from the 'later' second generation. The latter was born roughly ten years later, in the 1980s, and grew up long after the moment of migration, when their parents had become more progressive. The later second generation also was more likely to grow up in environments with larger shares of coethnics and peers with other ethnic-minority backgrounds, and had coethnic role models. This generation also grew up in a different 'Zeitgeist', as over the years the tone of the integration debate gradually harshened.

#### **Religion. Commenting on a Conflation of Religion and Ethnicity**

In line with the high correlation between ethnic and religious identification in the TIES data presented in Chap. 5, religious identification was often mentioned during the interviews in the same breath as ethnic identification. This was to be expected as in both the coethnic context and in broader society, the concepts of religion and ethnicity are closely intertwined. In the dominant integration discourse, ethnicity and religion are generally conflated; for example in the argument that 'Moroccans' and 'Turks' do not belong in the Netherlands because of their Islamic cultures. Since ethnic and the religious labels are used in comparable ways to denote Otherness, the second-generation climbers need to challenge both stereotypes at the same time.

Also in coethnic contexts, ethnic and religious concepts are closely intertwined. Being a 'good' Moroccan or Turk often means that one is also a 'good' Muslim. This means that for many respondents, being-a-Muslim strongly contributes to belonging among coethnics; it is a way to establish 'ethnic authenticity' and functions as symbolic capital. Ketner lucidly describes how this works for adolescents with Moroccan backgrounds (2009, 2010). She describes how Islam for them is not only a source of ideological inspiration but also an instrument that they use in negotiations with their parents. By showing that they are good Muslims and/or arguing that certain values are propagated in Islam (such as education, individual autonomy, and participation in Dutch society), the adolescents manage to acquire more personal freedom and carve out their own routes and identities without incurring alienation from their parents.

#### **6.6 Summary and Reflection**

The answer to the question why the second-generation Moroccan and Turkish climbers identify as they do is partly to respond to the social situation at hand. How others see and approach them affects the participants' feelings of belonging and therefore affects how they position themselves in particular situations. Hence, how individuals present themselves in particular situations is not based only on a 'cognitive component' (the individual's independent, autonomous preferences and affiliations). The interviews show that there is also a 'strategic component' based on interactions with the social other, the 'audience' (see Barreto et al. 2003; Goffman 1959). Disagreement, either about behavioral preferences or about labels of identification, forms a possible threat to the individual's acceptance by that particular audience, to one's belonging. Individuals have a range of responses at their disposal. These responses—contesting, concealing, convincing and conforming—vary in terms of how an individual balances one's autonomous preferences with one's belonging. These strategies can also be described in terms of boundary work (Slootman, unpublished paper). Although external demands and ascriptions can be fierce, and personal agency can be severely limited, individuals rarely completely lack agency.

Consequently, even when people conform to the stance of the other, this does not necessarily reflect a complete lack of agency. Conformism can involve the careful deliberation of various choices. Individuals can deliberately *choose to conform* and refrain from pursuing one's autonomous ambitions in order to protect social bonds, for example out of love or respect or a desire to belong and avoid conflict.

However, the acknowledgement of individual agency, and the conclusion that, in Song's words (2003), minority individuals also have 'ethnic options', should not lead us to overestimate the individual agency and underestimate the influence of external actors. When the image of 'victim' shifts to the image of 'resilient actor', the responsibility for social oppression shifts from society to the individual, and failures to cope with inequality are seen as personal rather than societal failings (Meyer 2003, p. 23). As is clear from this chapter, individuals are not free to choose whether or not to be subject to external pressures, whether from coethnics or others. The dominant system of classification and hierarchies—which determines the range of ethnic and national categories that is available to individuals and the accompanying degrees of stigma or advantage—can be quite restricted and constraining (Nagel 1994). In particular, the dominant integration discourse is felt as extremely exclusionary and insulting. Participants often feel judged 'as Moroccans' and 'as Turks' and measured by specific yardsticks. It is important to realize how social others limit and shape the individual's options by granting or withholding appreciation, acceptance, and the permission to belong. It would be unjust to hold the minority individual (entirely) responsible for their experiences and expressions of non-belonging, as feelings of belonging are strongly affected by politics of belonging. This is why the assimilationist discourse has reverse effects.

The findings show the inappropriateness of thinking in terms of ethnic 'ingroup' (characterized by consonance and belonging) and ethnic 'outgroup' (characterized by dissonance and non-belonging). We have seen that in both kinds of settings, strategies are needed to achieve belonging. It appears untrue that there is a need for belonging only among coethnics and not among interethnics, as implied by thinking in terms of ethnic 'ingroup' and ethnic 'outgroup'. In both kinds of settings, individuals strive to belong. Nor is it true that belonging among coethnics is self-evident and among interethnics is always disputed. Belonging among coethnics often needs to be negotiated, and in many interethnic situations, participants feel they belong. This theme of interethnic consonance will be further explored in Chap. 7. Nor is it true that ethnic background shapes experiences and dispositions in such a way that it is justified to think in internally homogenous and externally bounded ethnic groups. Other characteristics such as social mobility, gender, and generation also affect the experiences of second-generation Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch, and shape the position of individuals in the various fields in which they maneuver. Besides the broader trends, it is important to acknowledge variations between individuals and even between contexts. All these findings warn against any form of 'groupist' thinking and against thinking in terms of a consonant ethnic 'ingroup' and a dissonant ethnic 'outgroup'.

The fact that coethnic relationships are not always consonant shows that minority individuals are not seamlessly immersed in homogeneous coethnic communities. Ethnic-minority individuals are exposed to behavioral and other identificational expectations by coethnics, on which one's belonging as a respected member partially depends. In order to be able to recognize these mechanisms, it is important to consistently separate the individual level and the collective level. Often, the individual and the collective levels are confused, both in empirical literature on ethnic minorities—where the focus is on the group level—and in more conceptual arguments. This is illustrated by the use of 'internal' and 'external' identification by Jenkins (2008). This is an important case, as Jenkins provides a structured analysis of the 'ethnic identity', and his use of 'internal' and 'external' identification is very common. Even though Jenkins criticizes the 'misleading' conflation of collective identity and individual identity (2008, p. 55), he fails to consistently apply this distinction himself. Jenkins describes internal identification as 'an individual process or a collective, group process'. He describes external identification solely on the group level, as categorizations 'of "us" by "them", and of "them" by "us"' (2008, p. 55, 171). With these definitions, he ignores a specific process of identification: the external identification of the individual by people of their 'own' (coethnic) category. Even though Jenkins states that he does not regard the individual and the group as one and the same, by using 'internal definition' for self-definition on both levels, he suggests that the identification of the individual is equal to the identification of 'the group'. He thereby infers that consonance exists among coethnics, at least in terms of identification. This confusion of minority individuals and entire minority categories occurs in many studies (see also Brubaker and Cooper 2000).

I solve this confusion of individuals and categories by using 'internal' identification (or 'self-identification') exclusively in reference to the individual level. I use 'external identification' (or 'labeling' or 'categorization') for all kinds of identity ascriptions by social others, whether these are coethnics or not. Consequently, this social other needs to be explicitly specified. In this way, we avoid the implicit assumption that a minority individual only (and always) feels unwanted identificational pressure in interethnic contexts and only (and always) feels alignment, acceptance, and support in coethnic contexts. Again, this view challenges the use of 'ingroup' and 'outgroup' in relation to ethnic categories.

#### **References**


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## **Chapter 7 Trajectories of Reinvention. Soulmates and a 'Minority Culture of Mobility'**

How do identifications develop over one's lifetime? What underlies social bonds, and what role do co-educated coethnic peers play? Can we speak of a 'minority culture of mobility' in the Netherlands?

As much as identifications are not constant between different contexts, the differences between the childhood and adult phase in the previous chapter, Chap. 6, indicate that identifications are also not static throughout one's life course. In this chapter, I further explore how the participants' ethnic identifications change throughout their life course.

Let us listen once more to Said:

Well, I think, when you look back… Yes, I think – reflecting on the period at elementary school – …that you discover that you are actually different. In a negative way. Because I remember – Quite bizarre: sometimes I was not allowed to play at a friend's house. That's something that you don't understand at that moment. So, then you find out you are different. That is phase one. (…)

Then, let's say, this period at high school, where you, let's say, SEE the opportunities and seize them, and where you realize that you're talented. You know, that you say to yourself: 'This is GOOD for me'. It sounds weird – no, it doesn't – that at the age of fourteen you notice the difference between you, the higher-educated pupil, and the lower-educated pupils of the school nearby. There is a huge difference, with those children smoking pot. So you notice THAT. This makes you realize: 'I want to stand out positively, I do not want to be like them'. So, basically – you then learn about your… identity – I don't know. But what you learn is indeed, in that secondary school period: no negative association with your own identity. That was a really fantastic period. What is important, is that – well – there I met with friends who did NOT see you as THE Moroccan, or whatever. You COULD play at their homes: sit… sleep over… you know… I enjoyed that period so much. Really great. Good memories. I did not feel different AT ALL. Of course, you realize you have a different background. But who cares?! You know: 'Enrichment.' Whatever…. – but that wasn't the focus. (…)

The funny thing is – at university you find out – Yes, there I DID relate more to, well, Moroccan-Dutch students. This was kind of a change. In fact, your whole life you did not do that. There you meet soulmates [*lotgenoten*], higher-educated Moroccan-Dutch students. That was a real revelation. For all of us. We still are in contact. But I remember the moment of revelation at that time: 'Apparently I am not alone' – I always felt THE exception. They were on your own wavelength, let's describe it this way. There were incredible levels of mutual understanding. Of course, that is fabulous. We surely all were… the outsider, you know. That was a fantastic period, indeed. I primarily related to Moroccan-Dutch people. Students. They were my best friends. Look, I also participated in a normal student fraternity, so there I did interact with other [ethnic Dutch] – But when you ask me: who did you mostly relate to, then it is primarily [with Moroccan Dutch]. (Said)

In light of the above extracts, Said's current relation to his ethnic background is remarkably comfortable. Remember his quote, presented in Chap. 6, in which he emphasized that he highlights his Moroccan identity whenever he can. He stated:

I actually highlight it all the [time] – I am just PROUD of it (laughs apologetically but affirmatively).

Other participants' stories have many parallels with Said's story, which I further examine in this chapter. The stories suggest that ethnic identifications develop from childhood to adulthood in a certain way, through interaction with the process of social mobility (Sect. 7.1). The theme of social bonds with others—in particular with coethnic, co-educated 'soulmates'—sheds light on the role of 'similarity' and on the socially constructed, yet substantive, influence of ethnic background (Sect. 7.2). In Sect. 7.3 I argue that the participants, together with their soulmates, shape a 'minority culture of mobility'. The chapter concludes with a brief discussion (Sect. 7.4).

### **7.1 A Trajectory of Reinvention of Ethnic Identification**<sup>1</sup>

Most of the participants sketched a trajectory with roughly comparable phases. As we have seen in Chap. 6, during their childhood, many participants felt like strangers in the majority-dominated fields of their 'white' schools and neighborhoods. Their stories were dotted with memories of 'feeling different' and a longing to be accepted by others. Several explained how they internalized the hierarchical worldview and adopted the stereotypical ideas that Moroccans and Turkish are less intelligent. To avoid standing out and to be accepted as one of 'us', they wanted to downplay or conceal their ethnic identity.

For some participants, these feelings of being different extended into their secondary school phase, while others, like Said, did not feel like an outsider anymore and developed a positive self-image. Said's close friendships with ethnic-Dutch peers made him feel accepted and valued. His ethnic background simply felt irrelevant to

<sup>1</sup>Parts of this section have been previously published in Slootman (2014).

him at that time. His self-confidence grew because he realized he was doing well and could be proud of himself.

As adults, the participants describe their current relationship to their ethnic background primarily in positive terms. All participants explicitly identify in ethnic terms (in combination with feeling Dutch). Furthermore, they recount having good relations with their parents and have many coethnic friends. Many show a social engagement that is inspired by their ethnic backgrounds. They contribute to bridging cultural differences or supporting the next generation of coethnics.

Some participants mentioned that in early adulthood, they increasingly felt the need to explore their ethnicity and reassert their ethnic identity. Their ethnicity more and more began to feel like a missing part of themselves. The following quotes from interviews with Hicham and Ahmed illustrate the importance they attach to their ethnic identity. They explain that disregard of their 'ethnic sides', resulting partially from their social mobility, led to a feeling of 'loss'. Their quotes also show the effort it took to develop this 'ethnic side' in correspondence with who they are:

Hicham: (…) That's kind of funny. It happens to all people who made the decision to assimilate quite far. You see them struggle—that they just realize: 'Fuck, wait, I actually miss aspects that I feel I carry inside, which I concealed and suppressed, and which I miss badly'.

Marieke: Did you 'lose' something?

Hicham: Yes, I think so. I've discussed this at home as well, with my wife. I lost something because of my choice to be ambitious. I sacrificed part of my family bonds. You used to visit your grandpa and grandma and uncles and aunts, and neighborhood friends that you grew up with; people among whom you can experience part of your Moroccanness – in music, or in jointly watching the Moroccan football team or whatever. I've partly lost that: the opportunity to very directly experience the identity of my parents, and therefore also a part of my own identity – to experience that in my close surroundings. These are very basic things, like: in those old days, when I came home from school, I sometimes dropped by at a Moroccan tearoom. Even though these were not my kind of peers, with regards to their socioeconomic background or whatever, these were the only people in my environment to share some mint tea with, having Moroccan music in the background… That brings some peace.

Ahmed: (…) of course, for me it's a quest as well… I grew up in very white surroundings, and that's one of the reasons I returned to Amsterdam: because I missed my Moroccanness.<sup>2</sup>

Marieke: Why was that?

Ahmed: Because I had always been in a white – well, I'm somewhat exaggerating with this 'whiteness' and 'Moroccanness' – …because I had always been in these surroundings, and suddenly there was a moment when I wondered: 'What now?' I started to feel the need to explore:'Okay, what does it mean for me, how does it impact me?' Then, more questions emerged, and the need increased –

The development of a positive relation to the ethnic label, that is, of a pleasant ethnic identification, for many was neither a smooth nor a straightforward process. Most of the participants recount a struggle, which was complicated by external demands and imposed identities. This struggle is part of the struggle Bourdieu refers to when he describes an ongoing clash between worldviews, categorizations and

<sup>2</sup>Literally, he said: '*omdat ik veel meer behoefte had aan mijn Marokkaans*-*zijn*.'.

hierarchies. The dominant classifications conflict with the participants' worldviews and their own positions. For example, we saw that participants experience an imposed 'mono-identity' that prevented them to identify in dual ways. Berkant describes his struggle. His quote furthermore shows the relief of having developed an identification that feels comfortable.

It has been a real trajectory… When I was young, I really struggled: 'Am I really Turkish, or am I really Dutch?' It really helped that I lived in Turkey, for my job. There, I found balance in my life. (…) I really feel I have the best of two worlds, actually. Now, whenever I want, I can decide where I live. I'm convinced I can be happy in BOTH countries. That is – That is – That makes me feel relaxed somehow. (…) I feel… let's say… at 'peace' with myself (laughs) – …that I can say I really feel I have double nationality. (Berkant)

A few participants did not describe an internal struggle. Instead, they seem to always have had quite stable ideas about themselves. A possible explanation is their relatively strong religiosity, which formed a solid anchor throughout their lives and provided clarity about their personal positions. For most, however, the process of developing a self-image that feels right was not at all straightforward.

In many of the interviews, a period emerged that was crucial in the development of a fitting ethnic identification: entering university and meeting students with a coethnic background. Said euphorically relates what it meant for him to suddenly meet coethnic students at university. It was a 'fantastic period', a 'revelation'. Others, such as Berkant and Mustapha, recount this phase in remarkably similar ways:

Then, you suddenly ARE at university, you ARE together with people – Well… since the second year, when I became involved in the Turkish student association – that was a PEAK experience. Suddenly, a whole new world unfolds, um – with an urgent need to share your experiences with somebody who went through the same as you did. So that was really a peak, my time at the Turkish student association. Really a peak. (Berkant)

So, when at university I did meet Moroccan students, for me that was a relief. Indeed, there was no need to explain myself anymore. About why this and why that. So, at that moment I started to explore my roots, also via my studies, as I did a research project in Morocco. And I became active in the student environment. Yes, Muslim, Moroccan, whatever, youth association as well – I have since then been very involved with the Moroccan community. I very much enjoyed it. It gave me heaps of energy, and it really made me grow as a person in that period. (Mustapha)

The reason for this delight was an unparalleled mutual understanding. There was the sudden insight: 'Apparently there are more of us'. The participants felt a 'match' with these coethnic students, who were on the same 'wavelength'. There was this sudden, urgent need to share stories with people who had similar experiences. These coethnic students also had been 'the exception' in their environments, to use Said's words. These students had encountered identical problems, not just in their school environments, but also in their relations with coethnics. For Karim, meeting coethnic student Kamal was 'life changing'. With Kamal, Karim finally no longer felt judged; he felt appreciated as a person. Like himself, Kamal felt burdened by high expectations from his family and 'the entire community'. Both men were put 'under a microscope' and felt the pressure to behave as 'one of them' (their coethnics), and were expected to pray and marry. They felt the heavy imperative to succeed in educational and professional terms. Openly sharing these experiences was a relief. Even Esra and Imane, who initially kept their distance from coethnic students due to assumptions that these students would be as conservative as the coethnics they already knew, ultimately felt at ease among the coethnic students they met. These fellow students appeared to share their modern, liberal, and emancipated attitudes. Many of the participants were members of Moroccan or Turkish student associations (sometimes in addition to general student associations), which they often helped to found. In short: their shared ethnic background—which shaped their positions in the various fields—in combination with the comparable trajectories they had taken through these fields, had shaped their habitus in similar ways.

These stories, characterized by a 'sudden' unprecedented understanding and described in terms such as 'revelation', indicate that the participants had not experienced their ethnic identities in a way that felt applicable to themselves until they met these other higher-educated coethnics. It is through this specific social interaction with coethnic peers who shared their education level that the meaning of their ethnic backgrounds fell into place and became more fitting. Experiences that previously felt unique and personal suddenly became shared experiences among people with similar ethnic backgrounds and similar trajectories of mobility. Apparently, these minority climbers created new ways of relating to the ethnic labels that are attuned to them as higher educated. Not only did they *reassert* their ethnic identity, after a phase in which this ethnic identity had been downplayed or was simply irrelevant, but the participants also *reshaped* their ethnic identity to fit their higher education levels. They reinvented the ethnic identity.

Most probably, the widespread connotations of 'Moroccan' and 'Turkish' further complicated the development of a fitting identification for these social climbers. These ethnic labels are generally associated with disadvantage, not only in socioeconomic terms but also regarding competencies. For example, as we saw, Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch are often portrayed as less intelligent than the ethnic Dutch. These stereotypical notions were strengthened by the absence of coethnic role models embodying success in the Netherlands at the time that this early second generation grew up. After all, the participants were the first in their ethnic categories to reach these positions; they were pioneers in their respective ethnic groups. This means that what was considered typically 'Moroccan' and 'Turkish' in the Netherlands was primarily constructed in relation to the lower class. Their particular situation meant that for the higher-educated Turkish Dutch and Moroccan Dutch of the early second generation, no suitable ethnic identification was yet available.

Song refers to a similar phenomenon and argues that minorities need to 'deprogramme' the self (Song 2003, p. 211–212). She explains that for second-generation Chinese in Britain and Vietnamese in America, after a period of shame during childhood that made them distance themselves from their ethnic backgrounds, it took a while to revalue and embrace their families' ethnic heritage when they attempted to free themselves from internalized 'white' views.

The interviews suggest that not only do internalized 'white' views need to be unlearned, but so do images that are dominant among coethnics. In their pursuit of social mobility, participants frequently collided with the strict norms of being a 'good' Moroccan or Turk as held by their parents and local coethnic communities, for example about leaving the parental home to attend a distant university. Some participants reported that coethnics were extremely critical of the high social positions of other coethnics, whom they disparaged for being 'too Dutch'. This suggests that for the participants, it could be hard to combine aspects of social mobility and the accompanying acculturation with what was generally considered a 'good' Moroccan or Turk. In other words, it was hard for them, being higher-educated and middleclass, to establish 'ethnic authenticity'. The absence of higher-educated coethnic predecessors also meant that there was no alternative Moroccan or Turkish identification available in the Netherlands that fit the participants' higher education levels. This explains why meeting coethnic students felt like a revelation and why, in this context, the role of ethnicity suddenly fell into place. They worked jointly on reshaping their ethnic identities to make the labels 'Moroccan' and 'Turkish' feel applicable to themselves, their higher education levels, and their bicultural identification.

Besides the role of the coethnic co-educated soulmates, another aspect seemed to facilitate the development of a fitting ethnic identification: recognition, or belonging. Contrary to the psychological model that a fitting identification—or what psychologists call an 'achieved identity'—leads to self-confidence and wellbeing (Marcia 1980; Phinney 1989), the stories show that for these participants, it is also the other way around. The self-confidence and recognition that came with feelings of belonging lead them to develop a fitting ethnic identification—or as some respondents formulate it, to develop 'pride' in their ethnic background. Although I have excluded Nathalie's interview from the book because of her mixed ethnic background, I use a quote from that interview here, because no other respondent explains this process as clearly as she does:

When you find out that THAT [being Moroccan] is a reason to be excluded, you try to avoid it and to minimize it as much as you can, in order to be as NORMAL as possible. (…) Well… and after a while you ARE normal – or at least, you are accepted as normal by your surroundings – then suddenly… um… then you realize you have nice friends, and that people really LIKE you, and that everything is fine… um… But that REALLY takes time, before you've built some self-confidence. That's definitely not – look, when you've been bullied, then… then… your self-confidence is BELOW zero! It takes some time to really GET there (…) and then… after a while… well, once you have overcome this… – I'm talking about YEARRRRS here – then you think: Well, it's actually quite a nice story… And then – then – Only THEN you dare to be PROUD – proud of where you come from… (Nathalie)

We can conclude that it requires self-confidence—based in belonging, in notfeeling like a stranger—to explore and articulate one's minority identity instead of choosing full assimilation and seamlessly blending into the majority. For some participants, this self-confidence seems to be grounded in their religiosity, which for them serves as an anchor. For others, this self-confidence is strengthened by their one's social mobility, which for them forms a ground for belonging. If we look at this mechanism through Bourdieu's lens, we see—in line with previous findings—that social mobility provides the minority climbers with symbolic capital that enables them to more confidently claim a position in the system of categorizations. Their social mobility strengthens their position in the struggle about the meaning of the social world and their position in it, that is, the meaning of their social identity, although it is not entirely clear if this is acknowledged as symbolic capital by other people. (This process can also be described in relation to social-psychological literature, see Slootman 2017).

In short, although the participants' stories vary somewhat, the commonalities between many of the interviews are substantial. The empirical findings reveal a specific development of ethnic identification, taking place among second-generation climbers in parallel with their trajectories of social mobility. This trajectory is characterized by a 'reinvention' of ethnic identification in early adulthood. In early adulthood, after reaching high education levels, many of the social climbers started reasserting their ethnic identities. It seems as if they needed to reshape the meaning of the ethnic labels in accordance with their achieved positions. They did so jointly with coethnic co-educated peers at university, among whom they felt unprecedented levels of understanding. In their later lives, for the most part, their ethnic identifications had become important and valued parts of themselves which the participants articulate in certain contexts at certain moments; in nearly all cases, this was in combination with a self-identification as Dutch.

#### **7.2 Sameness and the Relevance of 'Ethnic Feathers'**

#### **Sameness and Habitus**

In the participants' accounts, the ideas of difference and sameness emerge as a central theme. How the participants experience and value sameness further elucidates the relevance of their ethnic background. In Chap. 6, we have seen the intensity of experiences of difference and non-belonging. In this section I explore experiences and interpretations of 'sameness'. I start with three quotes that show the centrality of sameness in how participants reflect on their social bonds.

(…) people with whom I share my frustrations and ambitions about changing the world. With whom I talk about fundamental things, with whom I sharpen my views. (Hicham)

(…) a certain social stature, which enables you to share things with one another. Because, that's what it is about: sharing one's fascinations. Because indeed, when you do not have anything to talk about, there is nothing that bonds. (Berkant)

I realize that I need some kind of companions; meaning higher educated. You know, women I can have sharp conversations with. But also men. (…) those few people who are very important to me – let's say, with whom I get this flow of fresh insights, triggering interactions. I like having those inspiring friends around me – companions, to reflect on having a career in this world, in this context. (Aysel)

These participants describe their connection with friends in terms of sharing norms and experiences. Apparently, similarity is about having corresponding worldviews, which gives substance to conversations and likewise to social relations and friendships. In other words, experiencing 'sameness' is about sharing a habitus. This supports Bourdieu's argument that a similar habitus increases affiliations between people.

**Fig. 7.1** Gender equality norms compared (schematic presentation of Table 7.1)

#### **Sameness, Ethnic Background and Education Level**

Like Aysel, Berkant does not in the first instance relate this sameness in worldview to ethnic background:

When I was living in Zeeburg with my family, which is basically a yuppie neighborhood – I think we were the only Turkish family there – we interacted with EVERYONE. Because they were the same 'social layer'. These were people who had similar experiences and with whom we could share ours. Ethnicity was not an issue whatsoever. Later we moved to Amsterdam North, where we ended up in an immigrant neighborhood. There we interacted with NO ONE. Because we were just in a separate social layer. Highly educated… and my wife did not wear a headscarf at all – she even is antipathetic to headscarves. And then… after day ONE – it's that quick – even the neighbor across the street, who was a Moroccan man, would not even look at us! This makes you think: based on ethnicity we are supposed to fit in here. But you have NOTHING to share. That makes you think: wow, ethnicity is much less important than one would think, much less than the social layer. (Berkant)

Apparently, Berkant's habitus is shaped more by his class and education level than by his ethnic background. The importance of socioeconomic class and education level does not emerge only in Berkant's response. In all the interviews where neighborhood preference was discussed, participants preferred middle-class neighborhoods—regardless of ethnic composition—to neighborhoods that are dominated by (low-class) ethnic-minority residents.

The idea that class, or education, has a larger impact on the habitus of these minority climbers than ethnic background is supported by the survey data. The survey data on gender norms illustrate that this idea reflects a broader trend. When we compare the ethnic categories of TIES respondents, the Moroccan-Dutch respondents are much less progressive than the ethnic-Dutch control group, and the Turkish Dutch are even less progressive than the Moroccan Dutch (Table 7.1 and Fig. 7.1). However, when for every ethnic category we look at the average scores for the lower and higher educated separately, we see that education level strongly influences the picture. In all three ethnic categories, the higher-educated respondents are more progressive than the lower-educated respondents. The higher-educated Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch respondents are more liberal than the lower educated respondents of the control group. This not only illustrates the stronger impact of education level on shaping these gender norms than ethnic background per se, but also suggests that groupist thinking in terms of ethnicity obscures characteristics that might be more relevant in this respect, such as education level.

Considering the effect of education on habitus—gender norms in particular—it is not surprising that education level also appears to be more important than ethnic


**Table 7.1** Gender equality norms compared (means per ethnic category and subsection)

*Data* TIES survey for the Netherlands, 2007, NIDI and IMES Only respondents with a mono-ethnic background

**Table 7.2** University-educated respondents with three best friends who are all coethnic or all co-educated (% per ethnic category)


*Data* TIES survey for the Netherlands, 2007, NIDI and IMES

Only respondents with a mono-ethnic background, who are at university or graduated from university

background for friendships, as the qualitative and the quantitative data show. All interview participants report that they have close friendships almost exclusively with higher-educated people, and not exclusively with people of the same ethnic background. In parallel, the higher-educated Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch TIES respondents more often have co-educated best friends than coethnic best friends. When asked about the ethnic background of their three best friends, 20% of Turkish-Dutch university-educated respondents answered they only had Turkish-Dutch best friends (Table 7.2). When asked about the education level of their three best friends, 40% of the Turkish-Dutch university-educated respondents indicated they had only higher-educated friends (HBO and university). Of the Moroccan-Dutch universityeducated respondents, 26% had three coethnic best friends whereas 43% had three co-educated best friends.

The idea that similarity attracts, which has been demonstrated by psychologists (Berscheid and Walster 1969, Byrne 1961) is often translated into the folk wisdom that 'birds of a feather flock together'. This adage is often blindly applied to ethnic categories; ethnic background is regarded as the feather that naturally makes people flock together. The findings however show that sharing an ethnic-minority background does not automatically make people flock together, and that ethnic background is not the primary characteristic making people flock together. Similarity is not determined by a single demographic feather. One's habitus is only partly shaped by ethnic background. Individuals' experiences and worldview are connected with their positions in specific fields, which are the result of an entire intersectional range of characteristics, including socioeconomic class. As we have seen, the influence of education even seems greater than that of ethnic background. The educational feather seems brighter than the ethnic feather.

Bourdieu's concepts enable us to describe the relevance of social identities while avoiding the essentialist trap. When a certain ethnic background strongly binds people, it does so because this ethnic background shapes peoples experiences and perceptions (and thus their habitus) in distinctive ways. It is the societal relevance of ethnic background—the fact that it shapes people's positions in the various fields, and hence people's experiences—that makes it matter. For example, we saw that having a Moroccan or Turkish background influences how one is seen by ethnic Dutch, which affects one's position in ethnic-Dutch arenas, and thus one's experiences and one's habitus. Feelings of affiliation do not purely express an instinctive sense of solidarity with others who belong to the same demographic category, but exist because these others have similar positions and a comparable habitus. In short, *if* birds of a feather flock together, this is not because of their feathers per se, but because of their shared experiences and shared worldview.

I place a reflective remark here. Although Bourdieu describes the influence of social structures on the habitus and the influence of the habitus on feelings of belonging, his theory lacks a relevant mechanism. As I read Bourdieu, his theory does not account for the influence of social structures on feelings of belonging separate from the habitus. The participants' accounts show that they sometimes experience nonbelonging despite a matching habitus, solely because they are labeled as outsiders by social others.

#### **Sameness and the Intersection of Ethnic Background and Education**

The prevalence of education level over ethnic background does not mean that ethnic background does not play a role. In fact, the accounts of the university phase show that ethnic background matters a great deal for shaping social bonds. Although participants had more co-educated than coethnic friends, peers who were *both* coethnic and co-educated appeared to be real soulmates. As we have read, among those peers, unprecedented levels of understanding existed because of the combination of their shared ethnic backgrounds and educational trajectories.

The importance of 'sameness' contributes to our understanding of processes of ethnic identity formation. The findings extend the current explanations for the resurgence of ethnic identity at university, a resurgence that is also observed in other cases. Waters (1996) describes the heightened ethnic identifications of both 'black' and 'white' students in college, and explains this with the sudden confrontation with difference. She argues that the interaction with people who are different makes 'individuals realize the ways in which their backgrounds may influence their individual personality' (1996). My findings indicate that, in the Dutch context—which is less ethnically/racially segregated than the American context—for the Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch climbers, it was not the confrontation with difference but with commonality that made them realize the ways in which their ethnic backgrounds had influenced their lives.

Min and Kim's study of Asian American professionals (2000) confirms the importance of similarity for the resurgence of ethnic identification, although my findings still add to their explanation. The young Asian American professionals in their study report experiences that are very similar to those of participants in my study. The Asian Americans downplayed their ethnic identity in their youth because of active exclusion at their predominantly 'white' schools. As children, they 'resisted learning their ethnic languages and cultures', 'preferring to identify themselves as Americans', a preference that stemmed 'from the pressure to be "normal"' (p. 745). Later, 'the college environment helped strengthen their ethnic and pan-Asian identities' (p. 743) as at college many of them had more frequent interactions with coethnic peers. The Asian American students saw college as a way 'to escape from the demands of their parent's cultural expectations', while, paradoxically, it is at college that many of them 'developed an interest and pride in their ethnic subculture' (p. 745). An 'evolution' of their ethnic identity took place; it was a phase of exploration and they took increasing pride in their ethnic identity. The young professionals 'generally grew to appreciate their bicultural heritage' (p. 746). They were 'acculturated into the white mainstream culture as higher-educated professionals', and they are also 'strongly attached to their ethnic subculture and binational in their loyalty and identity' (p. 750). Min and Kim seek explanations for the resurgence of ethnic identification in the way colleges nurture the Asian identity and the large presence of Asian American students.

Nevertheless, the findings of my study indicate that the development of a fitting ethnic identification is not merely stimulated by the presence of coethnic peers, but by the presence of peers who are coethnic *and* co-educated. The interviews showed that the mutual understanding was based on a combination of shared ethnic backgrounds and shared processes of social mobility. The issues that were important to the participants (such as having a progressive mentality, receiving a disappointingly low secondary-school advising, experiencing pressure from parents to be successful and remain or become a 'good' Moroccan or Turk at the same time) were only grounds for mutual understanding among coethnic peers who experienced comparable processes of social mobility.

Using Bourdieu's terms, we can say that these coethnic co-educated soulmates feel 'at home' with one another because they share the intersection of two sociallyrelevant demographic characteristics. They share the specific 'layering' of having Moroccan or Turkish immigrant parents and being highly educationally mobile. They have comparable 'segmented' or even 'conflictive' 'dispositional sets', which are either useful in the coethnic field or in the field of work or higher education. In other words: they are soulmates because they occupy comparable social positions in various fields and have been through comparable social trajectories, which resulted in a highly similar habitus.

The findings show that this common ground, this mutual recognition, helps highereducated ethnic-minority members develop a positive relation to their ethnic identity. As explained, the ethnic identity previously was primarily constructed in relation to lower-class immigrants. The soulmate spaces formed a favorable context for jointly developing a comfortable relationship with their ethnic identity, given their shared education levels. These spaces provided a favorable context to reinvent their ethnic identification.

#### **7.3 Soulmate Spaces and a 'Minority Culture of Mobility'**

In this section I compare the previous findings with literature that describes the specificities of the positions and trajectories of other minority climbers. The broad similarities indicate that many aspects of the exposed trajectory are not unique to second-generation Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch climbers. The trajectory of reinvention as described for the second-generation Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch climbers in this study resonates with what is called a 'minority culture of mobility', both in the underlying causes and the social effects.

#### **Distinctive Challenges of Minority Climbers**

We have seen that the specific intersection of ethnic background and education level results in high levels of sameness and mutual understanding among minority climbers. In both the professional field, dominated by the ethnic majority, and in the coethnic field, dominated by the lower educated, minority climbers occupy positions and encounter challenges that are unique to higher-educated individuals with a minority background. These stories resonate with empirical studies on social climbers from various groups in various settings (mostly in the United States).

Literature on minority climbers describes how their position is distinctive in both the middle-class and coethnic fields. The climbers' tendency to maneuver in the *field of the middle class* sets them apart from lower-educated coethnics (Neckerman et al. 1999). As the middle-class field is dominated by the ethnic majority, the minority climbers have more frequent contacts with 'whites' in their school and work environments than lower-class coethnics do. Therefore, they encounter distinctive forms of social exclusion, often more subtle (ibid.). For example, middle-class Mexican Americans are not seen as bona fide members of the middle class (Agius Vallejo 2012). They encounter rigid boundaries, which materialize, for example, when they are seen as spokespersons for the entire ethnic category or as experts on migration issues or are asked what they think of the deviant behavior of arbitrary coethnics. Haitian African middle-class youth report feelings of being-the-only-one and tokenism (Clerge 2014). In fact, many middle-class ethnic minorities have a 'subtle, global feeling of being different' (Torres 2009, p. 891). Feelings of exclusion are often accompanied by feelings of isolation and loneliness (Neckerman et al. 1999) or even deep dissatisfaction and cynicism (Cole and Omari 2003).

In order to function in the professional field, minority climbers need to acquire 'white middle-class cultural capital', which requires a high level of sociocultural assimilation (Carter 2003).<sup>3</sup> They need to learn the dominant business norms and rituals, such as certain speech patterns, dress, and business etiquette (Agius Vallejo

<sup>3</sup>Instead of 'white middle-class cultural capital', Carter (2003) uses 'dominant cultural capital' to distinguish this capital from the forms of cultural capital present in ethnic minority settings; she calls 'non-dominant cultural capital'. With this distinction, she acknowledges the important fact that ethnic minority settings also have cultural capital. I avoid the term 'dominant' in reference to the ethnic majority mainstream, as what is 'dominant' differs per field and therefore is a relative term. (In ethnic minority settings, forms of ethnic minority capital are dominant).

2009, 2012). Another purpose of employing majority middle-class cultural capital is to combat the negative stigma of the ethnic label by showing the erroneousness of stereotypical assumptions and avoiding 'stock stories', i.e., typical stories that exemplify and affirm stereotypical images (Agius Vallejo 2009). Sometimes individuals emphasize their middle-class identities to distance themselves from negative images (Clerge 2014). However, the use of majority middle-class capital does not mean that minority climbers see themselves as 'white'. Others see them as non-white, and they see themselves as non-white; that does not mean however that they do not see themselves as middle-class.

This description of the professional environments of the minority climbers in the literature partly parallels what we have read about the second-generation Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch climbers in Chap. 6. For most participants their professional middle-class environment is indeed predominantly 'white'. The Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch participants also mention moments when ethnic boundaries materialize and when they feel 'Othered' because of their ethnic background. They wearily recount moments when they are singled out as 'Moroccan', 'Turkish', or 'Muslim', or when they are uncomfortably set apart as a 'positive' exception. However, most of the participants do not seem to feel strongly excluded in their direct working environment and they do not report many instances that they unambiguously label as discrimination. They employ 'white' cultural capital in similar ways as described in the literature: they highlight their successful position in combination with their ethnic identity to prove negative stereotypes wrong.

With regard to the navigation of the middle-class professional field, the participants stress their versatility and flexibility as the result of lifelong switching between fields and behavioral codes.

(…) I think, over time, I have learned – and I think many people have, those with a Moroccan or Turkish background – that they have learned to be VERY flexible. That you just learned to adapt. I think, your abilities have to be adaptive – um, I mean: When you are at home – well, it's not that you're a completely different person, but you learn to deal with various contexts. You learn how to behave in various ways, knowing what behavior is accepted and what is not. (Said)

They refer to what is elsewhere called a 'reflexive habitus', or 'chameleon habitus' (Abrahams and Ingram2013; Reay et al. 2009; Sweetman 2003), which might explain why lack of familiarity with middle-class behavioral codes is not a profound theme in the interviews of this study. A few participants, such as Karim, experienced a mismatch because of their alcohol abstinence. Furthermore, Hind explained that the student fraternity, with its boisterous atmosphere, somewhat prepared her for her job at a consultancy firm. She also mentioned that many of the second generation do not appreciate the importance of extracurricular activities for their careers.

In relation to the mismatch with the white middle-class capital, it is important to note the relevance of their low socioeconomic backgrounds. Although they do not frame discomfort in terms of class difference, the parallels with the experiences of ethnic-majority climbers suggest that experiences of non-belonging are also partly caused by their low socioeconomic backgrounds. This is also observed by other scholars. Torres shows that the 'culture shock' that black students experience at a white elite college partially reflects class differences, although these students in the first place attribute their feelings of discomfort to racial differences (2009; see also Agius Vallejo 2012; Cole and Omari 2003). As in the Dutch case, it also seems that in Torres's case the ethnic (racial) frame is more salient than the class-based interpretation of difference.

The second class of challenges relates to interactions with lower-educated people in the *coethnic field*. Minority middle-class individuals have interclass encounters far more frequently than majority middle-class individuals (Agius Vallejo and Lee 2009; Neckerman et al. 1999). Their family often is lower-class, as is the majority of the coethnic community, which often functions as some sort of extended family; Fordham (1988) calls this 'fictive kinship'. Quite often, minority climbers live in class-diverse neighborhoods and participate in class-diverse organizations. Lowerclass coethnics can exert strong claims for coethnic loyalty and assistance. The practice of 'giving back', expressed as financial and other kinds of support to family and other coethnics, is apparent among various middle-class minorities (Agius Vallejo and Lee 2009, Neckerman et al. 1999). Strong coethnic solidary can exist, for example among African Americans, because of a linked fate due to the racialization of identities, or among the adult children of Latino Americans due to the responsibility they feel towards their parents, which is framed in terms of an 'immigrant narrative of struggle and sacrifice' (Agius Vallejo and Lee 2009). These Latino American climbers attribute their success to the major sacrifices their parents made for the future of their children. They not only help their parents financially but also through 'cultural brokerage' by supporting their parents in their interactions with the ethnic majority.

Middle-class majority capital is often not valued in the lower-class minority setting, where recognition and acceptance are based on the employment of ethnicminority capital (Carter 2003). As we have read before, in many minority fields, being middle class and participating in the mainstream economy are denounced and ethnic-minority identities are constructed in opposition to the majority identity as ways to foster intra-ethnic cohesion and solidarity (Song 2003). Depending on dominant ideas about the 'ethnic authenticity', there is pressure to behave 'authentic' and avoid 'acting white'. Neckerman and colleagues cite Fordham and Ogbu (1986):

[M]inority oppositional culture racially codes behaviour and styles (…) Such judgments fall heavily on middle-class minorities, who in order to be successful must adopt behaviours and styles coded as 'acting white'. Minority oppositional culture is reflected in peer pressure not to adopt these behaviours and styles; it can also lead to deep ambivalence about identity. (Neckerman et al. 1999, p. 951)

This particularly applies to the United States because of its history of strong racial inequality. Steele reflects on 'the double bind of middle-class blacks' (1988). The equation of being black with victimization and being lower class required middleclass blacks to 'repress' one dimension 'to appease the other' (p. 43). Steele describes his personal experience of lacking a black identification that does justice to his middle-class status:

As a middle-class black I have often felt myself *contriving* to be 'black'. And I have noticed this same contrivance in others – a certain stretching away from the natural flow of one's life to align oneself with a victim-focused black identity. Or particular needs are out of sync with the form of identity available to meet those needs. (Steele 1988, p. 43, italics in original)

However, the opposition is not always as deep as Fordham and Ogbu suggest. Several studies show that not all oppositional stances reject educational achievement. Carter (2006) shows that individuals who oppose assimilation (and 'acting white') do not automatically oppose educational achievement and social mobility. Furthermore, critical elements of an oppositional mentality are not only shared by lower-educated ethnic-minority members, but are sometimes also shared by the higher-educated members. Latino and African American students develop academic identities in which, on the one hand, they acknowledge the importance of academic achievement for occupational success, while at the same time, they develop a reflective and critical attitude towards the achievement ideology (Mehan et al. 1994).

The Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch participants, too, have frequent interclass encounters with coethnics. As we have read in Chap. 6, they describe a coethnic solidarity and a responsibility towards their parents, which they express in a comparable 'immigrant narrative of struggle and sacrifice'. Many also feel a broader responsibility towards the coethnic next generation, leading to practices of 'giving back', whether or not within their immediate families. Furthermore, in some interviews, participants mention the judgmental character of some coethnics with regard to success or being 'too assimilated'. At the same time, the interviews also show that in these ethnic-minority fields, there are not solely critical, oppositional voices. Nearly all participants were raised by parents who stressed the importance of education and who are really proud of their children's achievements. Some participants describe how their success was even beneficial and 'gave them extra credits', also in the coethnic field.

#### **A 'Minority Culture of Mobility'**

The joint reinvention of ethnic identity of minority social climbers (the reassertion of an ethnic identity that is adapted to fit the newly achieved middle-class status) echoes the idea of a 'minority culture of mobility' introduced by Neckerman et al. (1999). These authors argue that the distinctive challenges resulting from the intersection of minority ethnicity and a high education level lead ethnic-minority climbers to develop their own solutions. They call these solutions elements of a 'minority culture of mobility'. The implications are illustrated by several empirical studies on minority middle classes (see the studies of Agius Vallejo 2009; 2012; Agius Vallejo and Lee 2009; Carter 2003, 2006 Clerge 2014, Lacy 2004, 2007, Mehan et al. 1994; Torres 2009—all in the United States). These studies show that minority middleclass spaces emerge, which Lacy (2004) calls 'black spaces', such as gatherings, networks, and organizations. These are places where minority middle-class members come together. Here, they are protected from discrimination. Here, they can share stories about discriminatory encounters with people who personally recognize your experiences. They feel like 'fish in the water', they can 'derobe' and switch to coethnic interactional and symbolic styles—styles and preferences that are familiar to these climbers because they grew up with them. For example, many middle-class Mexican Americans occasionally like to speak 'Spanglish', dance salsa, and watch Spanish movies. Professional minority associations offer ways of increasing middleclass cultural capital and social capital, offering a range of business trainings and access to (minority and majority) networks. At the same time, these spaces foster 'ethnic' cultural capital by (re-)creating principles of interaction with coethnics— such as practices of 'giving back'—and by offering places where minority climbers can jointly create fitting ethnic identifications and develop pride with regard to their low-class ethnic backgrounds. These soulmates spaces form a third space just as described by Abrahams and Ingram (2013): a space from which the navigation of the two other fields is facilitated. These spaces function like 'interspaces' as described by Ghorashi (2014); in these safe spaces there is room for reflection on the existing categorizations and hierarchy, and on the normalizing power of the dominant worldview, while allowing for 'the emergence of identity narratives in which self-definitions are central', instead of imposed identities and definitions (pp. 59–60).<sup>4</sup>

Lee and Kramer (2013) sketch how changes in the habitus resulting from social mobility lead to the reformulation of identities. Among the students with lower-class backgrounds they studied, they observe that the 'schism between their new, hybrid habitus and the community's working-class habitus does not mean those students no longer identify as working class but rather that their new habitus changes how and what identifying as working class means to them and to others' (p. 4). Brands's study illustrates how this works for ethnic-Dutch climbers (1992). These climbers create what Brands calls their 'personal project' ('*het eigen project*'). They create their own story, which defines how they see their lives; how they can relate to the cultural capital that is dominant in school and work, and how they can distance themselves from their parents without completely severing the bond. They create a new identity that defines their position, both in the fields of school and work as well as in the field of their low-class family. This identity is an answer to the ever-slumbering doubt: 'do I belong here?' ('*Hoor ik hier wel thuis?*') (p. 272). This identity is not detached from their home culture but rests upon the norms, attitudes, and habits of their parents' lower class (p. 282). The personal project meantime helps to distance oneself from one's youth and one's home, and helps cultivate their background and the relationship with their parents. It is some form of self-justification for one's changed position. It is a way to leave behind their home culture and their parents while at the same time taking them along.

We observe a similar phenomenon among the Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch climbers in my study. Among their soulmates, in these 'black spaces' or 'soulmate spaces', processes of conjoint interpretation seem to occur; processes of making sense of the world and of their experiences in the world. In the interviews, I see this reflected in the repeated emphasis on the deep levels of mutual understanding, and even more in the fact that most respondents experienced this understanding as astounding. The terms 'sudden' and 'revelation' refer to an unexpected commonality

<sup>4</sup>Although with 'interspaces' Ghorashi refers to spaces where individuals bridge differences and meet with the Other, rather than with soulmates, the function as safe, third space is strikingly similar.

among these coethnic co-educated peers. This indicates that they suddenly feel that their individual experiences are not subjective and unique, but are related to their specific social positions as educational climbers with ethnic-minority backgrounds. Together, they discover what it means to be a higher-educated Moroccan Dutch or Turkish Dutch. They do not apply new labels, nor do they (as adults) distance themselves from the ethnic labels, but rather they explore and redefine what being 'Moroccan' and 'Turkish' means to them as higher educated. They now know how to identify as 'Moroccan' or 'Turkish' even though, for example, their religiosity changed, they are fluent in Dutch, they are more oriented towards the Netherlands than towards Morocco and Turkey, and they have middle-class ('Dutch') patterns of expenditure, clothing, and holidays.

The idea of a 'minority culture of mobility' that is developed and fostered in middle-class minority spaces parallels the 'reinvention' of ethnic identification that I describe for the Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch climbers. One central parallel is that minority climbers choose not to fully assimilate into the ethnic-majority middleclass, but to become middle-class while articulating their ethnic-minority identities. The changed habitus of these Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch climbers did not lead to an assimilative identification as 'white' or 'native' or exclusively 'Dutch'. The second resemblance is that the minority climbers do not turn to 'retention' of lower-class ethnic identities and merely adopt common coethnic images and common coethnic capital, but they adapt their ethnic identities to the achieved middle-class status and create new subcultural elements. The Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch climbers chose to articulate their minority identities in their own, reinvented ways that fit their higher education levels. The third central resemblance is the importance of co-educated (or co-class) coethnics, as the reinvention of identity and subcultural elements is not something done alone. These 'Soulmates' understand their experiences and their life worlds better than anyone. Many participants became members of coethnic student organizations or professional organizations, which in several cases they helped to found. A difference between the Dutch case and the theory of Neckerman and colleagues is that in the case of the United States, a middle class with a minority background (of African Americans) already has formed, as a destination for assimilation for other minority groups. In the case of the Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch pioneering climbers, however, no such minority cultures of mobility were available to tap into, and they therefore had to create it themselves.

I have two objections to the term 'minority culture of mobility'. The first is that the term 'culture' in daily practice has essentialist connotations, implying homogeneity and boundedness. To refer to someone's 'culture' implies that she or he has norms, attitudes, and habits that are particular for a specific category. I object to this presentation, as a minority culture of mobility does not develop as result of separateness and particularity, but emerges from the attempt to combine and connect various fields and dispositions. Although it is an effort of a particular group of minority climbers, their aim—while fostering their own uniqueness—is to connect with and participate in the middle-class ethnic-majority field as well as the lowerclass coethnic field. Secondly, the affix 'of mobility' seems to imply that this culture aims to enhance mobility, whereas, how I see it, the subculture develops especially to *deal with* achieved social mobility. Although the term 'minority middle-class capital' would be more appropriate, I nonetheless stick with the term 'minority culture of mobility' because of the connection with existing academic literature.

#### **7.4 Summary and Reflection**

In the first section we saw that ethnic and national identifications are not static over time. Many of the higher-educated second-generation participants have struggled with their identifications and with their self-confidence. Experiences of exclusion made them want to downplay their ethnic identity. Over time, their self-confidence grew in parallel with increasing feelings of belonging. Slowly increasing feelings of 'pride' led them to gradually explore and articulate their ethnic identity. They needed to free themselves from the imposition of a mono-identity and from negative and low-class images of 'Moroccan' and 'Turkish'. They developed a manner of ethnic identification that fit their higher education levels and combines with feeling 'Dutch'.

This resurgence of ethnicity occurred in joint effort with co-educated coethnic peers, who turned out to be real soulmates. It appears that it is not ethnic background, per se, that predominantly shapes one's experiences and worldview (one's habitus) and underlies close social bonds. In fact, most of the higher-educated secondgeneration participants felt stronger connections with people who share their education level and socioeconomic class than with those who only share their ethnic background. However, when at university they suddenly met people who shared *both* their education level *and* their ethnic background, this felt like an astounding revelation. With them, they felt unprecedented levels of understanding. Surprisingly, personal experiences turned out to be related to one's ethnic background in combination with one's educational trajectory. These coethnic climbers share a similar habitus, based on the positions and trajectories within the various fields. In these soulmate spaces, they seem to discover what their ethnicity means to them. They reassert their ethnic identities and reinvent ways of relating to their ethnic backgrounds as higher educated.

Based on these findings, I suggest that in the Netherlands a 'minority culture of mobility' is formed among middle-class people with an ethnic-minority background. Elsewhere I strengthen this argument when I show that Dutch student organizations also form a 'minority culture of mobility' (Slootman 2018). Even though their coeducated coethnic soulmates are clearly not their only friends and connections, for many higher-educated ethnic-minority members, they form important social circles. Instead of choosing fully assimilative ways of identification, they start to acknowledge the importance of their ethnicity jointly and develop ways of appreciating their ethnic side. This does not mean that they stick to the same rules as their parents, that they have similar worldviews as all coethnics, that they prefer Morocco and Turkey to the Netherlands, and that they only interact with coethnics. This does not preclude or threaten their feeling Dutch, interacting with Dutch, and being oriented to Dutch society. Instead, it means that part of their experiences and part of their preferences are shaped by their Moroccan or Turkish background, by the immigrant history of their parents, by an Islamic upbringing and by their coethnic (extended) family. For many, failing to acknowledge their ethnic side feels like a personal deprivation. They love their family, they value various norms and traditions associated with being 'Moroccan' and 'Turkish', they feel inspired by Islam in specific ways, they like visiting Morocco and Turkey, and they feel responsible for coethnic youth who are still in a position of disadvantage and need information, a guiding hand and inspiring role models.

#### **References**


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## **Chapter 8 Ethnic Identity and Social Mobility. Wrapping up**

*What have we learnt from this study?*

Our task is then to account for the ways in which ethnicity (…) becomes a socially meaningful and consequential category of practice. (Fox and Jones 2013, p. 393)

Now, why do these ethnic-minority climbers identify in ethnic terms, and what does their ethnicity mean to them? Responding to Bourdieu's call, this phenomenological study on the self-identification of several minority climbers with Moroccan and Turkish backgrounds contributes to our understanding of the classification strategies through which individuals modify the world and their own position in this world. In response to Song's call (2003), it attends to the agency of minority individuals and charts their ethnic options. The focus on higher-educated professionals reveals particularities of the intersection of ethnic background and class. Instead of the highereducated second generation being an 'extreme case' (exposing mechanisms that are likely to also apply to lower-educated second generation), the particular influence of social mobility shows that they form a 'unique case' (exposing mechanisms that are particular to social climbers of the early second generation).

Section 8.1 delineates the phenomenon of ethnic identification on a more descriptive level (Sect. 8.1). Subsequently, I reflect on the conceptual issues raised in Chap. 2 and the methodological issues raised in Chap. 3 (Sect. 8.2). I conclude with a glance into the future (Sect. 8.3).

#### **8.1 The Relevance of Ethnic Identity for Ethnic-Minority Climbers**

We have seen in previous Chapters how the minority climbers articulate their identities, and how their identification depends on the context and develops over time. Their positions are shaped by their ethnic background in combination with their education level and class. Education level, more than ethnic background, shaped their habitus. Nevertheless, the combination of sharing ethnic background and educational trajectory led to unparalleled levels of mutual understanding (through homology of the habitus). Co-educated coethnics were their real 'soulmates'. Together, they reinvented ethnic identities that fit their high education levels. They gathered in soulmate spaces where 'a minority culture of mobility' developed.

The results show how the relevance of ethnicity is socially constructed and originates partly in dominant classifications that place citizens with Moroccan and Turkish backgrounds at the bottom of the social hierarchies. Widespread negative stereotypes of ethnic minorities and the intolerance of dual identifications negatively influence the position of these social climbers and hence their feelings of belonging in Dutch society. In this context, their socioeconomically advanced position functions as symbolic capital and somewhat strengthens their belonging in Dutch society. Their social mobility also creates extra virtue in the coethnic field, but at the same time it generates distance.

This study exposed a trajectory of reinvention of ethnic identification. For the participants, their ethnic identification is something that they reassert and *reshape* themselves, which they do so *in a later stage* of their lives, when they have already climbed relatively high, and which they do so together with coethnic, co-educated 'soulmates'. During childhood and in their youth, many Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch participants tried to downplay their ethnic background because their ethnic background resulted in exclusion in their primarily 'white' environments. When they entered university, together with their soulmates, they rediscovered and reshaped their relation to their ethnicity, so it was better-matched with their higher education levels. In their later lives, their ethnic identifications had become important and valued parts of themselves. The participants all identify as Moroccan or Turkish, and most combine this identification with identification as Dutch. However, what identifications mean to some extent varies between individuals and between contexts.

The prevalence of ethnic identification cannot be solely explained by intrinsic factors or solely by extrinsic factors such as external labeling. For most participants, their ethnic identification is not a self-evident reflection of some cohesive set of cultural practices. Neither is their ethnic identification solely symbolic or solely reactive, nor is it solely a means to establish what Carter calls 'ethnic authenticity' (2003). The relevance of ethnic identity for the participants has multiple aspects, ranging from more intrinsic to more extrinsic.

First, for them the ethnic label expresses the *intrinsic personal relevance* of customs and norms they consider 'Moroccan' and 'Turkish'. In part, they grew up with these customs and norms. Participants value Moroccan food, Turkish music, or 'Turkish' hospitality; some enjoy particular religious rituals or feel inspired by Islamic principles; some feel connected with their parents' birth country because this is a place they feel at home, whether or not only for periodic holidays.

Second, the ethnic label further reflects the particular *influence of their ethnic and migration background on their upbringing.* For them, growing up in an immigrant family meant growing up with particular resources, expectations, and cultural norms and practices. Their parents had relatively low levels of formal education; they came from rural areas and for a long time intended to go back; they worked hard and did not speak the Dutch language very well; they were unfamiliar with the Dutch system, including education, and needed support from their own children; they made huge sacrifices and therefore had high expectations of their children but often were unable to offer practical support. Many parents wanted their children to be socially mobile, but at the same time, they wanted to protect their children from becoming dropouts, and kept their children on a short leash. They raised their children within specific (religious) worldviews, with specific norms and values. Their ethnic backgrounds, and being a child of labor migrants, very concretely shaped their lives. From a young age the participants switched between diverging fields and dealt with a habitus mismatch.

Third, the ethnic label is also important to them because it*strengthens the connections with people* they love and respect, such as parents and other family members. Certain practices and ways of self-identification help them nurture precious social bonds with coethnic people such as parents. The cultivation of these bonds often required upholding norms and habits that are considered typically 'Moroccan' or 'Turkish', such as celebrating Ramadan, being religious (or at least identifying as such), avoiding confrontations with parents as a matter of respect, speaking their parents' language, or emphasizing that they are 'Moroccan', 'Turkish', or Muslim. These are means to establish their ethnic authenticity.

Fourth, their ethnic background not only influenced their life through the particular conditions of the home environment, but also *through dominant discourses in society, which also shaped their experiences*. The importance that society attaches to ethnic background and ideas on 'ethnicity' influenced how the participants were seen and approached by other people. For some, their ethnic background affected the secondary school advice they received. In some cases, it lead to bullying and discrimination. In other cases it more indirectly influenced participants' feelings of belonging. Additionally, the dominant images influenced how participants perceived themselves and their coethnics; some internalized the idea that as 'Moroccans' and 'Turks' they were different and 'inferior'.

Fifth, the last mechanism is also related to the dominant discourses. For the participants, their ethnic identity often appeared impossible to escape or ignore because of *external labeling*. When others label them as 'Moroccan', 'Turkish', or 'Muslim', this puts ethnicity on the table, and they have to deal with it in one way or another. Although ethnic labeling in inter-ethnic settings is not always with discriminatory intentions, the effect is exclusionary because the individual is labeled as 'the Other', which denies his/her belonging. The imposed demand that ethnic minorities identify as Dutch instead of Moroccan or Turkish does not make ethnicity less relevant. On the contrary, it seems that the identificational requirements and the zero-sum connotation of the two dimensions of identification only make ethnicity more relevant (Slootman and Duyvendak 2015).

The question of why individuals with minority backgrounds articulate their identity as they do in particular situations has myriad answers. For the participants, this articulation is partly a response to the particular social situation at hand and contains strategic elements. The identity articulation is contextual and relational. Interactions with social others are characterized by certain levels of consonance (alignment, agreement) and dissonance (disagreement). In this study, these two terms are used in reference to behavioral preferences and labeling. As we saw in Chap. 6, dissonance forms a possible threat to one's belonging, in both coethnic and interethnic contexts. The participants' stories show that they have various options at their disposal for reacting to instances of dissonance. For example, in the face of external labeling, which can be very coercive, they not always uncritically adopt the external ascription as 'Moroccan/Turkish' nor do they accept the negative connotations. They sometimes outright *contest* the other's stance and present their own stance as 'take it or leave it'. They also sometimes avoid conflict by trying to *conceal* the source of dissonance or by trying to *convince* the other to change his/her view through explanation and negotiation. They can also *conform* to the stance of the other—out of powerlessness or weariness, or out of love or respect. This typology of 'ethnic options' is characterized by a varying balance between the individual's own preferences and the preservation of belonging at that particular moment.

The fact that they have various ethnic options at their disposal and have agency does not mean that their agency is unlimited. Ethnic options are limited, pre-shaped, and sometimes severely sanctioned. Social others influence their options for identification, either by sanctioning deviant behavior or by simply ignoring or overruling their self-identifications. Their options are also affected by the societal connotations of the various labels. Their self-identification is never independent of external categorizations, existing stereotypes, and social relations. This means that we should acknowledge the agency of minority individuals but we should by no means underestimate the influence of external social forces and place the responsibility for non-belonging and disadvantage solely with the minority individual.

#### **Social Mobility and Ethnic Identification**

It turns out that the trajectory of social mobility affects the ethnic identification of the Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch climbers in two ways. First of all, the trajectory of social mobility shapes the social contexts in which these climbers navigate. As we have read, the combination of their low-class, ethnic-minority background and their trajectory of social mobility determines the fields in which they move as well as their positions and trajectories in these fields. For many, their low-class, ethnic-minority backgrounds mean that they occupy distinctive positions in their predominantly 'white', middle-class professional field, just like they did at their predominantly 'white' secondary schools. This situation means that they sometimes feel that they do not fully belong, either because they experience a cultural gap (habitus mismatch) or because they feel singled out by others. The fact that they have largely internalized the Dutch progressive norm does not prevent this. At the same time, for many, their achieved social mobility means that they also occupy distinctive positions within the field of their coethnic family and local community, who are predominantly low-class (another habitus mismatch). It seemed that for many of the climbers, the labels 'Moroccan' or 'Turk' that were available, with the attached connotations, did not fit their socially advanced positions. It was not until they met co-educated, coethnic peers at university, who shared their distinctive positions, that they started to reshape their relations with the ethnic labels.

Secondly, achieving socioeconomic advancement creates both the opportunity and the responsibility for many of the second-generation climbers to assert their ethnic identity. Reaching a socially advanced position feels as if one has proven oneself towards the broader society as a successful and—to use the terminology of the dominant discourse—'integrated' citizen. These achievements function as symbolic capital, and for many lead to increased feelings of belonging in the Netherlands, or at least to the idea that they can rightfully claim their belonging as Dutch. This creates space to assert their ethnic-minority identity without feeling insecure about whether this endangers their belonging. To some it feels as if their 'integration' in educational and professional respects forms a ground for belonging in the broader society that creates the opportunity to be different in another dimension: the ethnic dimension. In the perception of some, these social achievements do not only prove their worth towards the broader society but to family and other coethnics as well. The sociallyadvanced position can create extra leniency from the side of the parents, who are reassured that their child has turned out well even though it does not fully comply with the norms and customs, like parents might have preferred. This creates space for these second-generation climbers to somewhat re-shape traditional norms and possibly stretch the boundaries of what is accepted within the traditional framework. The socially advanced position not only creates the opportunity to more 'safely' assert one's ethnic identity, but also encourages the articulation of the ethnic label. The climbers consider it as their responsibility to highlight his ethnic identity because their middle-class and professional status as social climbers equips them to refute the negative stereotypes and change the dominant classifications and hierarchies. By highlighting their ethnic-minority identity, being social climbers, they form living proof that an ethnic-minority background and an ethnic-minority identification do not stand in the way of being 'good' citizens who fully belong in Dutch society.

#### **8.2 Discussion**

These findings confirm the limitations of the integration literature for understanding ethnic identification. A study on ethnic identification requires a lens that attends to the multi-dimensional, variable, contextual, relational and dynamic character of ethnic identification. The findings also call for caution when studying identifications in quantitative ways. I will further reflect on this point in the next paragraph.

In this book, I identified a trajectory of incorporation that is hitherto underexposed. This trajectory of the reinvention of ethnic identification is important to notice and study further because it contributes to our understanding of the prevalence of ethnic identification for social climbers with ethnic-minority backgrounds. Furthermore, it shows that individuals enter the middle class without losing their ethnic distinctiveness. The fact that they value and highlight their ethnic identity, while nevertheless being socially engaged and fully participating citizens, points to an integration mode beyond complete identificational assimilation and beyond mere ethnic 'retention'. See Slootman (2018) for a follow-up study on the minority culture of mobility in the Netherlands.

The findings of this study seem expandable. For example, that the participants develop their own third space, with their soulmates, resonates with the concept of a 'minority culture of mobility' as presented by Neckerman et al. (1999). This resonance suggests that the trajectory of reinvention is not unique to the Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch climbers studied, but also occurs among other ethnic and racial minorities who are social climbers in other contexts. Furthermore, the range of factors that make ethnic identity relevant for the participants might very well apply to all individuals with stigmatized minority backgrounds, as these are not connected to very specific conditions, just like the developed typology of ethnic options. Additionally, parallels exist between the situations of minority climbers and social climbers with majority backgrounds, as comparisons with the literature on ethnic-Dutch climbers have revealed. It is plausible that more ethnic-majority climbers encounter similar forms of dissonance in the home field and the middle-class field, and that they have similar ways of dealing with the mismatch, and also experience a special connection with soulmates. Finally, at the most detailed level, other early second-generation Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch climbers in the Netherlands will probably recognize much of the descriptions in the book. They share many conditions with the participants: growing up in the Netherlands shortly after the moment of their family's migration; being the first in their families and their wider surroundings to reach higher education levels, as educational pioneers; and being targeted by an increasingly exclusionary Dutch discourse.

#### **8.3 Studying Ethnic Identity: A Relevant Social Construct**

The question 'What is ethnic identity and how can we study it?' is complex. In Chap. 2, I explained that the apparent academic consensus to see ethnicity as a social construct is hard to follow through empirical studies because of the risk of falling into the essentialist trap, on the one hand, and into the trap of ambiguity and vagueness on the other. Moreover, I mentioned that the portrayal of a phenomenon as constructivist often leads people to regard the phenomenon as endlessly and individually malleable, which can lead to an underestimation of its social consequences. I argued that I nevertheless preferred a constructivist perspective to an objectivist perspective as a starting point because a constructivist view would not preclude my finding that a phenomenon is more universal and static; whereas starting from the assumption that a phenomenon is objectivist in nature could lead us to overlook that it is possibly multiform, dynamic and malleable. How did my approach turn out?

#### **A Constructivist Perspective: Variations and Trends Revealed**

The qualitative interpretivist data expose the multifaceted, contextual, and dynamic character of ethnic identification, revealing both the variability in ethnic identification and broader mechanisms. Various mechanisms are discerned through which ethnic background becomes relevant to the ethnic-minority individuals in this study. The findings also show that how participants identify varies per context and is the result of an interaction with the social other and therefore contains a strategic component. The findings reveal that these minority climbers have a range of responses at their disposal for dealing with external labeling and behavioral expectations, which means that individuals have agency, although this is limited. The findings furthermore illustrate that coethnic contexts are not necessarily characterized by belonging and consonance, and that interethnic contexts are not necessarily characterized by non-belonging and dissonance. Finally, the findings expose the temporality of ethnic identification.Many of these aspects of ethnic identification would most likely have been overlooked if I had employed an objectivist and groupist perspective.

This illustrates the value of regarding ethnic identity for second-generation Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch climbers as a constructivist phenomenon. In support of the widespread argument that ethnic identity is not an essentialist phenomenon, the empirical findings confirm that ethnic identity is not a self-evident given that simply springs from the birthplace of one's parents. Also, ethnic identification does not automatically reflect an internally homogeneous, externally bounded culture, and does not preclude simultaneous national identification. These results point to the importance of distinguishing identification-with-a-label from the sociocultural content and avoiding the conflation of the two. They raise the question about the meaning of ethnic identification for individuals.

#### **Yet… the Concreteness of Ethnic Identity**

That ethnic identity does not have a uniform and static meaning—that ethnic identity varies between segments, subsegments, individuals, contexts, and periods, and that it can be molded and negotiated—does not mean ethnic identity is a purely abstract and fictive notion that is only relevant for analytical purposes (see Bader 2001, p. 254). Ethnic identity is also not an entirely discursive phenomenon, lacking any 'existence' and structure. Nor is it endlessly flexible and individually malleable. We should not downplay or relativize how relevant and 'real' ethnic identity can be, and how concrete it is in its consequences. In Bourdieu's terms, 'ethnicity' is one of the categorizations that strongly structures society but at the same time is structured by this society. This only applies to particular ethnicities. In Dutch society, Moroccan and Turkish ethnicity are salient societal markers, contrary to, for example, Italian or American ethnicity.

This paradox of ethnic identity being both constructivist and 'real' is illustrated by this case of the Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch climbers. On the one hand, the interview participants are reflective and critical on issues such as ethnicity and ethnic identity, and they seem aware that ethnic identification can vary in content and per situation. They are aware of the individual options they have. They develop their own relations to the ethnic labels and even sometimes switch the use of the ethnic label 'on' and 'off'. On the other hand, we saw the pertinence of ethnicity and ethnic identification for these climbers. For some, their ethnic sides feel like essential parts of who they are as people. The participants are not completely in control over their ethnic identifications, and ethnic identification often is inescapable. Some even feel they have 'ignored' a part of themselves throughout their climb.

This is a clear warning that we should not assume that a phenomenon that we view as a social construct is endlessly flexible and individually malleable. For individuals, or even for entire categories, a phenomenon such as ethnic identity can be very concrete and even inescapable. This causes ambiguities in how individuals, such as the Moroccan-Dutch and Turkish-Dutch participants, speak about their ethnic identifications. The participants demonstrate awareness of the non-essentialist character of ethnicity, criticizing essentialist views on ethnic and national identifications, while moments later they themselves use essentialist formulations; this reveals a 'double discursive competence' that is also observed elsewhere (Baumann 1999).

#### **Studying Processes of Ethnic Identification**

The analytical toolkit that I used proved valuable to prevent slipping into unintentional essentialization but also for avoiding the use of concepts that are vague and ambiguous. However, throughout the discussion of the empirical data, it appeared that some tools needed to be refined and others needed to be added. The focus on *practices* of identification rather than on one's 'identity' enabled me to uncover the interactional and contextual aspects of identification. What is often overlooked, however, is the relevance of the *temporal* aspect of identification, which emerges as a main theme in my empirical data. Furthermore, the distinction between *label and content* proved indispensable for investigating the divergent meaning of identification with a certain label. In addition, the distinction between *self* -*identification and external identification* appeared to be crucial for unravelling mechanisms of identification. The coercive forces exerted by abstract stereotypes and concrete social others, but also the individual agency to choose and mold one's response, could not have been revealed without this analytical distinction. Without strictly separating the two concepts, their interaction cannot be studied and power inequalities remain hidden. We have seen that this conceptual tool needs to be sharpened by the consistent separation of the *individual and the collective level*. Regarding an individual as seamlessly belonging to a harmonious, consonant coethnic 'ingroup' and as standing apart from a dissonant interethnic 'outgroup', does not do justice to people's experiences. Such a view makes us overlook frictions with coethnics and alignments with people of other ethnic backgrounds. It would also make us overlook the fact that sameness is not solely, nor primarily, shaped by ethnicity, but also for example by education level. Breaking down the dichotomy between (ethnic) 'ingroup' and 'outgroup' implies that in reference to external identification, we should explicitly mention the actor, as this actor not always the ethnic Other: it can be a parent, sibling, a coethnic acquaintance or a coethnic co-educated soulmate, or it can be an ethnic-Dutch colleague, a politician, a co-educated Belgium Dutch friend, or whoever. These findings furthermore underline the importance of distinguishing between *category and group.* The presence of a social category does not necessarily mean that the members of this category all form a coherent group, all strongly identify with the label of the category, and all have the same culture. The findings warn against groupist ways of thinking and against employing an overly-ethnic lens.

An *intersectional approach* appeared to be another useful tool for avoiding and debunking 'groupist' views. By showing that educational mobility influences experiences that are related to one's ethnic background and by showing how having a high education level influences one's ethnic identification, the findings illustrate that the ethnic categories are not homogeneous. By revealing not only that, but also how experiences and worldviews are influenced by education level, even more so than by ethnic background (and most strongly even by a combination of these two characteristics), we can challenge groupist assumptions about ethnic categories. This brings intersectional thinking beyond women's studies and beyond the intersection of race and gender.

#### **Quantitative and Qualitative Methods**

These nuances and complexities urge us to be careful when studying identities. We should avoid groupist ideas that presume and suggest homogeneity. When interpreting data we should be aware that identity articulations are not straightforward to interpret. What they mean can be best-explored from an interpretivist perspective, with a qualitative, open research approach that brings out the experiences, meanings, and interpretations of the individuals.

Quantitative, structured approaches, such as large-scale surveys, have some pitfalls. The most important is the substantial importance and encompassing meaning that is attached to questions about 'identity', as illustrated by the SCP example discussed in Chap. 5. Furthermore, the focus on broader societal trends, which forms the major benefit of quantitative approaches, simultaneously forms a major pitfall. Conclusions are often simply formulated as the presence or absence of a pattern based on statistical significance. And because conclusions are based on differences between categories (for example between Turkish Dutch and Moroccan Dutch), or on the associations between variables (for example between duration of residence and progressiveness), the results draw attention to communalities within categories. Hence, they often implicitly contribute to the portrayal of categories as homogeneous and to central variables (such as ethnic background) as explanatory characteristics. In short, the focus on patterns when using large samples and structured data bears the risk reinforcing oversimplified, groupist, essentializing views on reality.

This being said, the interpretivist and constructivist perspective does not preclude the use of quantitative data. As Bourdieu emphasized, and as I just argued, the notion of phenomena being social constructs does not make phenomena less real or make social structures and trends absent. This is illustrated by the differences between ethnic-majority and ethnic-minority categories, and differences between ethnic-minority categories such as Moroccan Dutch and Turkish Dutch. As we have seen, Turkish Dutch more than Moroccan Dutch form cohesive communities, establish coethnic organizations, and speak a non-Dutch language. Moroccan Dutch more often articulate the religious label instead of the ethnic label to negotiate their position (see also Slootman and Duyvendak 2018), while over time Moroccan student organizations, in contrast to Turkish student organizations, have changed into multiethnic organizations (Slootman 2018). To study the impact and breadth of social structures, quantitative research can make indispensable contributions, as long as results are interpreted carefully and with some modesty. We should take questions—particularly less-factual ones, such as those about identifications—for what they are: responses to survey questions. And we should not take the emerging differences between categories as self-evident, but keep wondering about how these regularities come into existence. In Brubaker's words: instead of taking groupism (differences between categories) for granted, we should study how, and under what conditions, groupism does or does not develop.

The groupist and essentializing pitfall can be avoided through paying more attention to the diversity in the data. Associations are never completely one-on-one, categories are seldom uniform. Quantitative results do not necessarily strengthen simplistic, essentialist discourses; they can be used quite well to nuance or deconstruct them by explicitly bringing out these variations in the data, like I did in Chap. 5.

#### **8.4 Looking Ahead**

'The more you know, the more you realize what you don't know'. The old Socratic wisdom urges us to be modest but at the same to pursue knowledge and investigate. Like any study, this one raises questions that can provide inspiration for subsequent research. It would be interesting, for example, to further examine what happens in the co-educated, co-ethnic soulmates spaces of the ethnic-minority climbers; how mechanisms of ethnic identification differ between the higher and lower educated; and to make comparisons with minorities in the Netherlands who arrived as highereducated knowledge migrants or who are less stigmatized.

Although this book is written for an academic audience in the first place, I hope my findings will also cause ripples in the societal domain. In these times, when societal debates on immigrant incorporation have become increasingly culturalized, when the ethnic and national dimensions are too often regarded as mutually exclusive and demands for 'successful' integration have become framed partly as polarized identificational demands, it is particularly important to realize what makes citizens with minority backgrounds articulate their minority identities. This is especially important because the middle class is becoming increasingly diverse (Crul et al. 2013; Vertovec 2007). In this book, I have shown that the articulation of a minority identity very often is not an expression of dissociation from broader society: it is a way to nurture a part of oneself instilled through early socialization; it is a way to uphold social bonds with people one loves; it is a way to give meaning to one's position and one's experiences; it is a way to challenge negative stereotypes; and, in part, it is conformism to persistent external labeling as 'Moroccan' or 'Turkish'. These insights furthermore help us to understand why ethnic-minority spaces are formed. Organizations such as ethnic-minority student associations should not be dismissed as mere expressions of supposed disassociation and segregation. However, whether ethnic-minority identifications and ethnic-minority spaces will develop as a part of mainstream Dutch society instead of forming segregated and parallel segments, and whether they will remain combined with Dutch identifications and engaged participation, depends on the openness of society.

At least, we now better understand when minority social climbers present themselves like Dchar did at that particular moment when he won the Golden Calf.

'I am Dutch!

I am proud, with Moroccan blood!'

#### **References**

Bader, V. (2001). Culture and identity: Contesting constructivism. *Ethnicities, 1*(2), 251–273.


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## Appendix A Interview Guide

Note: This interview guide was originally in Dutch. The guide functioned as a springboard and was not rigorously followed in the interviews. Not all themes were discussed in all interviews at the same level of detail, and the phrasing of the questions was used more as source of inspiration for the actual questions asked. I excluded the probes that I never used at all.

#### A.1 Introduction


#### Research project:

Theme: higher-educated adult children of immigrants, about their career trajectories, and the role of social others. Why this focus? According to the literature, immigrants are in a particular situation, as often they are less familiar with the national institutions and there is the assumption that they have a smaller social network with people who can support them in their educational and job-related careers.

I like to explore how this worked out for you. What did your trajectory look like? What roles did social others play? What do such achievements do to you as a person? To what extent was this trajectory shaped by who you are?

#### A. Life course/career & background

Could you briefly describe your educational and working career? (schools, jobs, extracurricular activities)

Could you tell me more about your background?

	- Education level, work, migration origin, migration period, are they still together, language, religious upbringing.
	- Age, education level, job, language.
	- Ethnicity, education, work; relevance of these aspects for you; language.
	- Role in upbringing. Current role of religion.
	- Demographic composition: class, ethnicity …

#### B. Success factors and barriers

Try to find out:

What made you reach these high education levels?

Zoom in on phases and choices; on decisions for schools and education levels, on applications, on extracurricular activities. Role of others? Role of motivation? Role of context? Why you, and why many others not (such as maybe siblings)? (Support, inspiration; parents, siblings, peers, others, such as teachers)

	- What was the attitude of your parents regarding education?
	- How did you feel that? Did they check your homework? Did they help you with homework? Did they talk with teachers?
	- What expectations did your parents have of you? And of your (elder/younger) brothers? And sisters?
	- Did you have strict parents? (Were you allowed to … go on school trips, go out, play with friends, have sleepovers, have friends play at your house)
	- Role? Help with homework?
	- What profession did you aspire when you were young? When did you know you wanted to go to university? What was your motivation? Do you feel proud of your achievements?
	- Why this school? Why this level? How did you inform yourself? Did somebody accompany you to information events? Did somebody help you with your application? What was the role of parents, siblings, peers, others? Did peers take the same decision?
	- Can you think of a person who has been crucial for you trajectory (… if THAT person wouldn't have been there…? (A special teacher? Some sort of role model?)

#### – Would your trajectory have been different if you…

… wouldn't have had Moroccan/Turkish parents; … wouldn't have been a woman/man; … would have lived in a different neighborhood.

• Opportunities and barriers; attitudes of others and social relations; role parents and peers. If you were able to choose, where would you like to live with your own family?

#### C. Social context

How was/is the relation with parents, siblings, friends (demographic characteristics).

	- Gender, class background, ethnicity; mirroring the composition of the school class/neighborhood?
	- Do you think your career influenced the relationship with your parents/siblings? (pride/distance)
	- Did you feel at home at school/in the neighborhood? Why?
	- With which people / at which places do you feel at home best? What does feeling at home mean for you? Why?
	- Where do you feel at home less? Why?
	- (With parents? At home? At school? At work?)

#### D. Identification (feeling/being/doing)

#### – Dutch

• Are you 'Dutch'? To what extent do you feel Dutch? What does that mean for you?

#### – Moroccan/ Turkish

• Are you 'Moroccan'/ 'Turkish'? To what extent do you feel Moroccan/Turkish? What does that mean for you?

#### – Combination

• Do you feel more Moroccan/Turkish or Dutch? Or can't we say such a thing? Why?

#### – Muslim

• To what extent do you feel Muslim? What does that mean for you?

## A.2 End


## Appendix B Table Chap. 4

See Table B.1.


Table B.1 Significance of differences between ethnic and educational categories (values for

(continued)


#### Table B.1 (continued)

Data TIES data for the Netherlands, 2007, NIDI and IMES.

Only respondents with mono-ethnic backgrounds.

\*p < 0.10 (2-tailed); \*\* p < 0.05 (2-tailed); \*\*\* p < 0.01 level (2-tailed).

## Appendix C Tables Chap. 5

Note that:



Table C.1 Multivariate regression models for identification with the ethnic labels (per ethnic category; standardized regression coefficients b)


(mono-ethnic

background)

 and between 7 and 10

(mixed-ethnic

background).



Appendix C: Tables Chap. 5 189

Table C.3

Strength of

identification

 for men and women (HE, per ethnic category)





 respondents with mono-ethnic backgrounds, higher educated (HBO+).



 HE respondents with mono-ethnic backgrounds, HE higher educated (HBO+).








TableC.7bSocioculturalorientation:TurkishDutchwithlowerandhighereducationlevelscompared(intervalvariables)


Table C.8a Sociocultural orientation: Moroccan-Dutch male and female respondents compared (HE) (categorical variables)



 respondents backgrounds, higher (HBO+).



 respondents backgrounds, higher (HBO+).



 HE respondents with mono-ethnic backgrounds, HE higher educated



Only HE respondents, HE higher educated (HBO+).



Only HE respondents, HE higher educated (HBO+).