I.
On the night of the 2024 presidential election, Ruoyu Zhou ’27 sat at a watch party in her friend’s suite as the United States map reddened.
“It felt kind of like a joke at first, and I remember people were treating it as if it were some sort of TV show. The line between politics and entertainment felt blurry,” Zhou said. “As the night went on, it just began to feel more real, both in terms of what it meant for me, and what it meant for my American friends.”
Zhou, an international student who grew up in Guizhou, China, who attended high school in Singapore, wasn’t sure how the election results would affect her directly as an international student. “I knew that the election was definitely related to our lives, especially for me given the worsening of U.S.–China relations, but we aren’t involved in the voting or how the election turns out. Ultimately it’s not our country.”
Zhou echoes a sense of emotional distance shared across the ten international students I spoke to about the 2024 U.S. presidential election. While Donald Trump’s reelection signifies global changes, many students expressed mixed feelings about their investment in the results.
Like many international students, I applied to Yale from Japan hoping to pursue educational and financial opportunities unavailable in my home country. Most of the students I spoke to felt similarly, and seven shared that they hope to secure employment in the U.S. for at least a few years after graduation. And yet many students, myself included, don’t wish to stay in the U.S. long-term for cultural and political reasons.
The election of Donald Trump has called the stability of international students—and their futures in the U.S.—into question. In the wake of the results, many international students are questioning their relationships to the U.S. as a whole. Their reactions manifest in an emotional distancing from the U.S. and disillusionment with its image as a land of endless opportunity and democratic freedom.
II.
For many international students, the election feels personal in its threat to their places in America and to their prospects of staying post-graduation.
International students pursuing a full-time degree arrive in the country on an F-1 visa, or a “nonimmigrant visa for a temporary stay” specifically for students pursuing full-time academic studies at a U.S. institution. They are temporary guests—when their visas are at risk, so are their legal grounds for remaining in the country.
Since his inauguration, Trump has already made moves to threaten their security.
On January 26, Donald Trump threatened a 25 percent tariff on Colombia alongside visa sanctions which would deem Luis Tomás Orozco Vaca ’26 from Colombia’s visa nonrenewable.
While a deal was reached hours later, the move showed the unpredictability of Trump’s actions on immigration. “I think Trump has shifted U.S. foreign policy in a way where he is willing to strike down any deviance and target countries with insane responses,” Orozco said.“That’s definitely a new dimension of insecurity.”
On January 29th, Trump issued an executive order pledging to deport international students who participated in pro-Palestinian protests.
Meanwhile, Project 2025, in which many of Trump’s closest advisors and administration members are heavily involved, includes a section on prioritizing national security in student programs, suggesting that the government “eliminate or significantly reduce the number of visas issued to foreign students from enemy nations.”
International students pursuing a career in the U.S. are also left wondering how the presidency will play into their futures. If students wish to stay post-graduation, they must apply for extended time allowed for professional experience through Optional Practical Training (OPT) or Curricular Practical Training (CPT). The other, more long-term option to secure a place in U.S. is through visa sponsorship from a U.S. company, most often the H-1B visa for occupations that require “theoretical and practical application of a body of highly specialized knowledge.” Pursuing an H-1B visa usually means securing a job with large employers with enough funding to sponsor visas.
Lorenss Martinsons ’26, from Latvia, studies Cognitive Science and plans to stay in the U.S. to pursue fields related to machine learning and Artificial Intelligence. He says the industry is “more forward-thinking” in the U.S. than in his home country. Yet the volatility of the Trump administration’s policies concerns him. “I think it just feels very unpredictable on what he is going to do,” said Martinsons.
Donald Trump’s first presidency included an executive order which led to denials of H-1B petitions increasing fourfold from 6 percent in 2015 to 24 percent in 2018. The order also resulted in longer delays and requests for evidence, slowing down the application process as a whole. In 2017, Trump issued Executive Order 13769 to “protect the nation from foreign terrorist entry” into the U.S., targeting travel from primarily Muslim countries. The order sparked concerns about the safety of international students and scholars studying abroad in America, though the department of Homeland Security later clarified that the ban excluded student visas.
During the 2024 election, Trump showed mixed stances toward legal immigrants: In June of 2024, he stated that he would provide green cards to all foreign students who graduate from U.S. colleges. Over the last few months, he has been engaged in heated debate about the H-1B visa program, at points even claiming,“I’ve always liked the visas…I have used it many times. It’s a great program.” However, many experts expect increased scrutiny in the H-1B visa process.
“He’s sending a lot of mixed messages, and the main problem is the complete uncertainty on what his position will be. I’ve definitely shifted my priorities to be more attentive about how the rules might be changing, and how that might impact my future,” Martinsons said. His worry seems to hold true even for those who aren’t committed to staying in America. Two students I spoke to mentioned that they’d begun searching for potential internships and careers in Europe.
Ozan Say, the director of the Office of International Students & Scholars, points out that despite the general anxiety about immigration laws and travel bans amongst the international community, there are nuances to the changes a Trump presidency might impose. He assures students that Yale will continue to support international students through any changes, and, as it always has, “advocate for reasonable immigration improvements that benefit our students,” particularly in situations that might impact their safety in the country.
III.
Elite U.S. universities like Yale became hubs for international students during the Cold War. The colleges played a role in American soft power diplomacy, marketing the nation as a global leader in democracy and higher education. Since then, U.S. universities have often been deemed a path to success.
Orozco was aware of the socioeconomic privileges that Yale would provide him when he decided to enroll from Colombia. “There is a sense of status that comes from being here. Being international studying in America, going to an Ivy League school—that reads in a certain way to people, both to Latin Americans back home and to Americans,” he said.
What he points out is true: being an international student studying in the States is perceived by many as a mark of status and privilege. Being a student at Yale, in particular, is often seen as a golden ticket to living out the successful life in America that so many yearn for. In his first speech as the 23rd president of Yale University, Peter Salovey quoted James Truslow Adams, writer and historian, who coined the phrase “American Dream,” when describing what Yale offers students: “A land in which life should be better and richer and fuller for everyone, with opportunity for each according to ability or achievement.”
This narrative of America as a land of freedom and opportunity seems to still ring true for some international students coming to the U.S.
When pro-democracy protests swept Hong Kong in 2019 during Trump’s first presidency, Sam, who has been granted anonymity via pseudonym due to concerns about Hong Kong’s national security law, remembers protesters waving American flags in the streets of his hometown.
“A lot of foreigners still see America as a beacon of freedom and democracy. The hope for them is that Trump is a strong-man kind of character that could help people who don’t have the fortune to live in a democracy,” Sam said. “But then you see that America is becoming more and more unstable, and Trump inarguably being a big aggregator of many problems, which makes me concerned for the future.”
Zhou also senses that what was once a system representing “the epitome of democracy” is shifting ideologically. Post-World War II, the U.S. advertised itself as a land of freedom and democracy—a “policing of the world” of sorts, as Sam notes. To study in the U.S. as a student from Hong Kong means access to ideological freedom in a way that echoes the myths told about the land of America.
Donald Trump’s reelection shows an obvious fracture in this tale. Trump himself has demonstrated frequent autocratic tendencies, openly admiring political leaders such as Kim Jong Un and Vladimir Putin, threatening media outlets that outwardly report against him, and making threats against political enemies such as Liz Cheney.
Despite such signs, Sam continues to have faith in American ideals. “I want to stay in America because I believe that America would give me great opportunities, and I believe in the system,” Sam said. “I like the democracy and the freedoms that it gives me, even as a non-citizen—theoretically, at least. I think America as a country, and the idea of America itself, can live on.”
Others aren’t so optimistic. Orozco admits that he holds a very cynical perspective on the U.S. as a whole. “I don’t feel as if I belong to this country at all,” he said.
Underlying Orozco’s contempt is Colombia’s long history under aggressive U.S. influence and intervention, a notable example being Plan Colombia, a U.S.-led initiative aimed at combating drug trafficking and insurgencies which arguably exacerbated violence and displacement.
Orozco is far from the only international student who harbors a sense of alienation from the U.S.. Students I spoke to are quick to deride America’s political polarization and foreign intervention. In some way, there is a collective identity on campus formed not around being international, but rather not being American.
Mustafa ’25, who is identified by first name only out of concern for future employment opportunities, is originally from Iraq but is now an American citizen. He immigrated to the U.S. in 2017 with his family on a special immigration visa after the Iraq War. During Trump’s first election, he remembers a sense of fear and worry in his household as they applied for a green card. “There were stories back home about Trump-era border control, and green cards being snapped in half. They’re probably not true, but there was a general air of anxiety about immigration status being canceled out of nowhere or put on pause.”
He notes that this time around, the second Trump presidency only furthered the distrust he had already felt toward the U.S.. “I think the general sense towards America’s political landscape when I go back home is, ‘Get a grip.’ This kind of thing happens everyday in Iraq,” he said. “American problems are problems, but we’ve dealt with so much more. I think the only reason for anxiety is because many Americans still believe in America as a clean institution, and people aren’t rightly disillusioned by its politics.”
Orozco’s and Mustafa’s sharp sentiments hint that beneath many Yale students’ upset reactions towards the election—American or not—lies a fading expectation that the U.S. upholds the ideals it advertises. For many international students, the reelection of Donald Trump only confirms what they’ve long realized: that the stories told of the U.S. as the land of freedom and democracy are distorted and untrue.
IV.
Apart from all the logistical reasons that his presidency may impact their lives, Donald Trump’s election has also widened the emotional distance many international students feel toward the U.S. His second term signals a clear message: that we are outsiders, and will be branded as such for the next four years more than ever before.
The overwhelming majority of Yale’s international community, however, continues to be highly privileged outsiders with powerful legal and institutional protection. The Office of International Students & Scholars offers logistical support and community for international students, implementing programming such as first-year orientations and bonding events. Simply being part of the institution of Yale offers a further layer of protection—students told me stories of immigration officers glancing at “Yale” on their visa and immediately letting them through, while their parents tagging along were questioned thoroughly.
And despite the uncertainty, international students continue to come to Yale for the tangible opportunities it provides educationally, professionally, and socioeconomically.
Yale also offers its students some sense of belonging.
The cynicism that I heard in many international students, and recognized within myself, seems tied to a refusal to associate oneself too deeply with the U.S. And yet, our lives are so intertwined with Yale—a place embodying an epitome of American wealth and status. I was curious whether students thought themselves to be at home at Yale, a much smaller world within the country.
The general sentiment seemed to be yes. “Yale feels utopian sometimes,” Zhou said. “I have such a welcoming community here, people are very open and genuine.”
“Of course there’s a sense of home,” Orozco said. “I think it’s difficult to define what being ‘at home’ even means—can Americans even ever feel as if they fully belong to this country? But when it comes to Yale, I have my social circle here, I call my dorm ‘home.’ There’s always going to be a sense of affinity.”
I, like many of my international peers, remain highly skeptical of the U.S. on many levels. The sense of distance rooted in the U.S.’ history, how it wields its political and economic power, and more fundamentally the experience of living in a foreign culture will always exist. In the same way that one might feel most like a Yale student back home, I find myself most Japanese when I am here, surrounded by those who are not.
The Trump presidency further complicates this relationship international students have with the U.S., what the country means to us, and where our places might be here. And yet, to position ourselves between America and our home countries, to exist inside the gates of Yale also means we have tied our lives inextricably to this country.
–Moe Shimizu is a sophomore in Davenport College.