We are all strangers in a strange land, longing for home, but not quite knowing what or where home is. We glimpse it sometimes in our dreams, or as we turn a corner, and suddenly there is a strange, sweet familiarity that vanishes almost as soon as it comes. ― Madeleine L’Engle, The Rock That Is Higher: Story as Truth
Dear reader,
To belong is a feeling I don’t think I’ll ever be able to describe accurately. Not because I haven’t experienced it, but because it never seems to last very long.
From what I understand, you can belong with people, and you can belong in a place. I’ve found some wonderful people to fulfill the former. The latter has almost entirely remained vacant. There has always been a next place. A city when I was in my village. The capital when I was in a city. Then New York, because that’s where you make big things happen.
New York was different. For the first time, I wasn’t looking for something better. I knew exactly what I wanted and how to get there. I had a plan, and for a while, it was working.
Then it stopped working. Not because I failed. Because I was told I couldn’t.
Despite one of the toughest job markets in recent memory, I landed an internship. I worked hard, did well, and got a return offer to come back part time in the fall. I was proud of that. My family was proud of that.
The current administration blocked my CPT, which is the work authorization that allows international students to gain practical experience while studying. Without it, I cannot go back. The return offer means nothing.
My only reason for coming to the US was to get a holistic education. Not just academics, but real experience. That combination is what I couldn’t get back home. But the rules keep changing, and none of the changes are in our favor. Fewer protections, shorter windows, higher fees, more uncertainty. In the US right now, you are increasingly judged not by the content of your character or the quality of your work, but by the color of your skin and where you were born, even if you do everything according to the rules. At some point, the math stops working.
What makes this harder is that my family put everything they had into this. International students pay eight to ten times what Americans pay in tuition. We come from countries where that kind of money represents years of savings, sometimes a lifetime of it. And we pay it because we believe the opportunity on the other side is worth it. I’m not sure I still believe that.
I left my family. I left my friends. I left everything familiar. I told myself it would be worth it, that I would come back having built something remarkable. Going back now, without having done that, is something I find very difficult to sit with.
I don’t know where things go from here. There is still a chance things change. But I’ve also started looking at this differently. For the first time in a while, I’ve been asking myself whether the US was ever the only option. And the answer, it turns out, is no. That realization has been more freeing than I expected.
I don’t have a neat conclusion. I’m still figuring this out in real time. But I’m hopeful. And I’ve learned that sometimes the path you planned isn’t the one that leads somewhere worth going.
This too shall pass.
I’d love to hear your thoughts.
See you next week.
Warmly,
Suraj