Living in Limbo
International students came here to study. Now they’re afraid to leave – or speak.
Students from abroad are facing an almost impossible quandary: return home after years in America to see loved ones and risk never being allowed to come back to school, or stay put. Demi Vitkute spoke with several facing this dilemma, and the fear engendered by the Trump administration.
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Srividya Narayanan hasn’t been home to India in over two and a half years. She missed her sister’s wedding. And if her parents were to get sick, she said, she wouldn’t go back either because the risk of not being able to return to the U.S. is too high.
“I miss my parents. I miss the food,” she said.
Narayanan is a recent Northeastern University master’s graduate who now works full-time in Irvine, California, as a regulatory affairs specialist on Optional Practical Training, or OPT, a temporary work authorization that allows F-1 visa students to work in their field.
“I signed up for the struggles of studying here,” she said, referring to student loans and the pressure of building a life in a new country. “But I didn’t sign up for not being able to see my family at all.”
Narayanan is one of many students and recent graduates who are choosing not to travel abroad because of concerns about visa issues and reentry into the U.S. In interviews with multiple international students in the U.S., CollegeWatch found that many have missed major family events — weddings, funerals, and even moments of hardship, such as illnesses — for fear of jeopardizing their visa status. What was once routine, visiting family or returning home during school breaks, has become a high-stakes decision.
“For the past year, my consistent advice to international students has been the same: if you don’t have to leave the U.S. this summer, don’t,” said Loren Locke, a business immigration attorney. “Because the visa you need to come back is now adjudicated under a very different regime than the one that got you here.”
Locke, a former U.S. Department of State consular officer who used to review thousands of visa applications abroad before moving into private practice, said that the calculation of risk largely depends on one’s country of residence and major, with STEM graduates and PhD students being the most at risk.
“Students from China and Iran have long faced heavier Technology Alert List scrutiny in STEM fields, and that has intensified. Indian students are caught in the green card backlog trap — they may transition successfully to H-1B but still face a lifetime of visa-stamping anxiety. Students from visa-waiver countries in Europe generally have smoother experiences but are not immune, especially if they’ve been visibly involved in campus political activity,” Locke said.
These risks and uncertainties have had a chilling effect. For this story, many students refused to talk, even anonymously, out of fear that anonymity doesn’t guarantee protection.
“If you were to be arrested by ICE tomorrow, and they forced you to give away your source names, wouldn’t you?” someone asked in response to my request for an interview.
Still, for some international students, the opportunities and sense of freedom that America offers outweigh the uncertainty.
Ryan Yau, a graduating senior studying journalism at Emerson College in Boston, who is from Hong Kong, said he chose to study journalism in the U.S. because he sees it as “probably the best country for journalism despite everything.”
As someone who wants to be a film critic, Yau thinks there are far more journalism opportunities in the U.S. than back home. He also values the diversity of perspectives and cultures he has encountered in America.
Unlike some international students who are cautious about what they say or write publicly, Yau is not afraid to speak up.
“I don’t want to self-censor,” he said. “I’d rather just do what I want and face the consequences than not do what I want.”
Yau acknowledged that he has the privilege to be more outspoken than students from more precarious places in the world because he has a safety net back home in Hong Kong.
“If it got me, I’d be okay,” he said. “I could move home and feel okay.”
Still, Yau said recent cases involving international students, including the detention of Tufts University student Rümeysa Öztürk, have shaken his trust in the system.
“We all have an implicit trust in the system that brought us here — visas — and because of that, it’s disheartening to see that being shattered,” he said.
Unlike Yau, who chooses to speak publicly, Millie*, a sophomore international student from Europe, said she fears sharing her political opinions during classroom discussions.
“International students don’t feel safe saying their opinion,” she said. “In their minds, they don’t take a neutral position, but in the classroom, they need to take a neutral position because they’re scared.”
She added that while no one has directly criticized her for avoiding political speech or activism, she sometimes worries that politically active American students may silently judge her for not participating.
Millie said she has started thinking more about self-censorship in the U.S., something she finds deeply ironic given the country’s reputation for free speech and open expression.
“If we have freedom of speech, then why are international students not able to practice their right to freedom?” she said. “We have to obey the laws, but we don’t have the same rights.”
Her fears intensified after her university notified students last year that some international students had their visas revoked.
“If it happened to someone else, what are the chances it could happen to me, too?”
Last summer, the U.S. State Department expanded social media vetting for international students and instructed visa applicants to set their social media accounts to public. Since then, students say they avoid posting anything political online and even hesitate to share certain posts privately with friends.
When conflict with Iran escalated earlier this year, Jay*, an international student from the Middle East, reposted news about bombs dropping in the region on his Instagram story, but was soon advised by his family to delete it because international students’ social media activity is vetted as part of the visa process.
For Jay, who had never posted anything political before, the moment felt personal because the war directly affected his family.
“I don’t know the next time when I’m going to see my family,” he said.
During the peak of the conflict, his younger siblings could not attend school for nearly a month, and no one could enter or leave the country. Because of the time difference, Jay said he has to carefully time his messages to his family to receive a response while they are awake.
“I haven’t called my parents in months,” he said. “I was expecting to call my mom this morning, but she didn’t call me back because she was at work.”
The school year just ended, and watching many of his classmates return home for the summer break while he remains in the U.S. has left him feeling isolated.
“It’s sad to not be able to talk to my family and watch all my friends go back home and see their families,” he said. “And I’m left here alone.”
The fears and isolation described by students are unfolding amid broader changes to visa processing, immigration enforcement, and social media vetting under the Trump administration.
In late May of last year, the Trump administration paused all student visa interviews before introducing mandatory social media reviews for all F-1 visa applicants. The administration also revoked thousands of international student visas, appearing to target students involved in political activism or those with prior charges, such as DUIs. Although many visas were later reinstated, international students continue to feel uncertainty and fear about their future and status in the U.S.
Secretary of State Marco Rubio also announced that the administration would “aggressively revoke” visas of some Chinese students and heighten scrutiny of future applicants from China, particularly those studying in “critical fields” or with alleged ties to the Chinese Communist Party. Weeks later, Trump reversed course, stating that Chinese students were welcome in the U.S. and their visas would continue to be honored. The contradictory moves left many Chinese students confused.
Although international students are generally traveling more freely now than they were last summer, immigration policies and State Department guidance continue to shift.
In March, for example, the State Department announced that it had expanded online presence reviews to additional visa classifications, increasing concerns around social media scrutiny and contributing to longer administrative processing times. “A U.S. visa is a privilege, not a right,” reads the final line on multiple State Department visa webpages.
However, lengthy administrative processing is not new for some students, particularly Chinese students in sensitive STEM fields, who have long faced additional scrutiny during visa applications and renewals. As uncertainty grows, many students increasingly rely on websites such as Checkee.info, where applicants anonymously track visa cases, processing timelines, approvals, and rejections. While the data is self-reported and limited, platforms such as Checkee and social media apps like RedNote have become important spaces for students to share information, find community support, and estimate how long their visa cases may take.
“There is no clear timeline or plan for visa adjudication to return to normal capacity, especially as the State Department just had an unprecedented massive layoff of Foreign Service Officers,” said Locke. “Students should book their interview as far in advance as possible, and current international students should carefully evaluate any international travel that would require them to apply for a new visa.”
Stricter visa policies are already affecting international student enrollment in the U.S., which dropped by 17% for the Fall 2025 semester, according to a report from NAFSA. The organization estimated that the decline translates into more than $1.1 billion in lost revenue and nearly 23,000 fewer jobs.
Shaun Carver, executive director of International House at UC Berkeley, said the impact is being felt unevenly across higher education.
“The country could be on fire, and people still want to come to Harvard and MIT and Cal [UC Berkeley] and Stanford and these top brand names,” he said. “But Tier 2s and Tier 3s are — gosh, if you’re a liberal arts school that relies on international students, you’re really having a hard time right now.”
The challenges don’t end with graduation. Many students remain in the country on OPT, a temporary work authorization that allows them to work in the U.S. for up to one year, or three years for STEM majors.
More than two and a half years after last seeing her family in India, Srividya Narayanan is navigating a different kind of uncertainty: building a future in the U.S.
Narayanan said she applied to nearly 4,000 jobs and received more than 2,000 rejections before finally landing a full-time role and moving from Boston to California.
“Even though we try to tell companies we don’t need H-1B sponsorship for another three years because we can work on OPT, they’re still not convinced,” she said.
Narayanan now mentors other international students navigating the same process. She said visa issues are only one part of the pressure international students carry, alongside loneliness, financial strain, and an increasingly brutal job market.
Narayanan pointed out the recent case of Iraganaboyina Chandu, a 26-year-old Indian graduate from DePaul University who majored in computer science and allegedly died by suicide in Chicago after struggling to find a job and experiencing severe emotional and financial stress. The incident, which was reported by outlets including India Today, sparked concern within the Indian international student community.
A GoFundMe launched by the community in the U.S. described Chandu as arriving in America “with big dreams” and “the same ambition held by so many international students.” The fundraiser sought to help return his remains to India and to help his family manage significant educational debt, eventually raising more than $81,000.
Narayanan said the emotional pressure many international students carry often remains invisible.
“At some point, you just feel really lonely,” Narayanan said. “Who do you talk to? Can’t talk with parents because they’re already worried about you, thinking whether you cooked or not, whether you ate or not.
“Many people store all their emotions, and eventually, it just bursts.”
Narayanan worries that international students can become vulnerable to different forms of exploitation, including pressure to accept lowball job offers or reluctance to speak up about harassment in professional settings.
Yet despite everything, when asked whether they would still choose to come to the U.S. knowing the risks international students now face, none of the students interviewed for this article hesitated — they would.
For Narayanan, staying is tied to a sense of purpose. For Jay, it’s connected to the idea of the American dream, since both his parents studied in the U.S. For Millie, it’s about the openness of American culture and the energy of big American cities.
And for Yau, it’s something deeper.
“Living in the U.S. affects how you feel, your psyche,” he said. “There’s a sense of power that comes with being here. I think Americans take that for granted.”
*These students requested anonymity.
- Demi Vitkute