FOREIGN STUDENTS IN US LEFT IN THE LURCH
Hundreds of thousands of foreign students who have enrolled in US universities that have announced online-only courses face an uncertain future
Alexander Auster came to the United States for college because here, unlike in his native Germany, he could study and swim, with hopes of someday competing in the Olympics. His Olympics dream fizzled. But after a successful college career at George Washington University, he stayed for law school and planned to start his legal career here, too.
Then, this week, he saw the news: International students would not be allowed to stay in the country if they were only taking online classes, the government said, despite the coronavirus pandemic forcing many colleges to stop teaching in person. In an instant, Auster said, he was uncertain about not just autumn (when classes start) but his home, his education, his career. “Everything I planned for the future is up in the air,” he said.
The federal Student and Exchange Visitor Programme on Monday announced that students enrolled in fully online programmes would have to leave the country or transfer to a programme that includes in-person classes in order to maintain legal status.
University officials blindsided
It’s not an entirely new rule. The government typically requires international students to take most classes in person. But it had offered more flexibility when the pandemic shuttered colleges in March. The new guidance blindsided university officials, who expected immigration authorities to grant the same flexibility as coronavirus cases spike.
Harvard University, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and Northeastern University are suing the Department of Homeland Security and US Immigration and Customs Enforcement, seeking to block the rule. California is suing, too.
International students, meanwhile, are doing what immigrants often do while waiting for the courts to untangle an attempt by the Trump administration to send them home and send a message: They’re worrying, and they’re scrambling for backup plans.
A bolt from the blue
Studying abroad on a visa always brings some restrictions and complications. But an unexpected change just weeks before classes start had international students worrying about leases, travel, academics, expenses and jobs — all things already made precarious by the pandemic.
A biochemistry student from Ireland, who spoke on the condition of anonymity because she feared retaliation, had been checking ICE’s website every day in June, hoping to see the pandemic rules extended. She found ICE’s decision on the website before her school, the State University of New York, was even notified.
Limited in-person classes
Her adviser told her to find any in-person course the school was offering and register. (At other schools, students and professors have scrambled to create classes international students can take in person.) But the student said there is not enough room in the limited in-person classes for every international student to get a spot.
She created a resource sheet with a script for people to call members of Congress and shared it on Twitter. It has been retweeted thousands of times and is being translated into multiple languages. “This policy is a message to both Americans and international students,” she said. “The message to Americans is, ‘We’re going to pretend the virus does not exist.’ The message to us is, ‘Get out’.”
Families worried
Anchita Dasgupta, a Brown University senior from Kolkata, India, has had difficult conversations with her family since the policy was announced. After reading over the legal jargon four times, she felt as if she and her parents understood the decision she was facing: No longer able to take online classes from abroad, she would have to risk exposing herself to the virus in the United States and return to school or stay in India and risk losing her visa — and, with it, her academic and career aspirations.
“My family is concerned I might get the virus. But that can’t even be a concern right now,” Dasgupta said. “I have to enrol in classes or I lose my visa status.” But even if she is able to come back to campus, Dasgupta said, she worries all that risk — the travel, the extra exposure to the virus — would be wasted if classes are suddenly moved online and her visa is invalidated.
“The fact that we can get kicked out of the country at any point, nobody cares about that,” she said. “We are constantly living with this pressure.”
‘It’s dehumanising’
My family is concerned I might get the virus. But that can’t even be a concern right now. I have to enrol in classes or I lose my visa status ... The fact that we can get kicked out of the country at any point, nobody cares about that.”
Anchita Dasgupta | Indian, Brown University
Everything I planned for the future is up in the air... I’m not sure where I would be able to go... In the back of my head, I’ll always have the thought that [the new rules] could change again at some point.”
Alexander Auster | George Washington University Law School
We were just a bargaining chip for schools to reopen. They didn’t actually care about us. It’s dehumanising us... We’re more than just tuition money. We bring diversity. We bring another perspective.”
Omer Tunc | Turkish, Georgetown University
Students enrolled in fully online programmes will have to leave the country or transfer to a programme that includes in-person classes in order to maintain legal status.
A similar choice haunts Omer Tunc, a junior at Georgetown University from Turkey. When campus shuttered over spring break, he was back home in Istanbul and couldn’t return to Washington, D.C. So he would wake up at 1am regularly to attend class. With unreliable WiFi, he couldn’t participate in class discussions.
So regardless of whether his classes would be online, he wanted to be back in Washington this fall. There was more than the time difference drawing him back, too: He worked 20 hours a week — the maximum he was allowed to under the F1 visa — to help defray the cost of college. If he can’t return, his job is gone, too. “We were just a bargaining chip for schools to reopen. They didn’t actually care about us,” Tunc said of the government’s decision. “It’s dehumanising us. We’re more than just tuition money. We bring diversity. We bring another perspective.”
Nowhere to go
Auster, the German law student, has lived here five years now; Washington feels like home. Now he is wondering where he would go if he has to leave. He couldn’t join his parents, who are diplomats in Haiti and the Dominican Republic, countries he could not enter. “I’m not sure where I would be able to go,” he said.
He could return to his native Germany, and take his George Washington University Law School classes online, in the middle of the night, he said.
Even if the rules change and there’s a way to stay at GW Law this autumn, he said, “In the back of my head, I’ll always have the thought that could change again at some point.”