‘The dream of studying in the United States has turned into a nightmare’

Thousands of Latin American students headed to the United States are feeling doubly victimized by Donald Trump’s attacks these days: for being university students, and for being Latinos. Of all the battles the Republican has launched in four months, the one he’s waging against universities has proven the most surprising. Economic warfare and persecution of immigrants were part of the president’s campaign promises, but no one could have predicted his interest in destroying what is widely considered the best academic environment in the world.

EL PAÍS spoke with four young Latin Americans who, until very recently, felt privileged. They thought they had achieved the ultimate goal: a spot among thousands of candidates from around the world, but now President Trump doesn’t want them in American classrooms. Last week, his administration ordered all embassies to cancel student visa interviews.

In the 2023-2024 academic year, 1,100,000 foreigners studied at universities in the country. But Trump now dreams of a United States with fewer university students and fewer foreigners. Regarding the defunding of universities, White House spokesperson Karoline Leavitt tried to explain the unexplainable a few days ago: “Apprentinships [sic], electricians, plumbers — we need more of those in our country, and less LGBTQ graduate majors from Harvard University.”

Many of the students who will arrive in the United States between August and September are currently in the middle of the visa process, while others have already obtained one. But with or without a visa, they all feel singled out: they are beginning to believe they are coming to study in a country where they are no longer welcome.

Manuel Beltrán

28 years old, Colombia

For Manuel Beltrán, going to study in the United States isn’t an individual project. He’ll be the one sitting in the classrooms at Columbia University, but his family’s dream travels with him. “The effort of those of us who come from the global south is collective and familial,” he says over the phone from Bogotá. Getting a spot at one of the world’s most prestigious universities is an obstacle course. Beltrán spent more than a year preparing for admission, put his career on hold, and did the math with his parents. He was clear that the experience would be worth it and would be key to his future upon his return to Colombia, where he hopes to work in public administration.

These previous months should have been filled with excitement, but instead they’re becoming filled with anxiety. His parents call him almost daily, and are “very scared” by the news coming in daily from the United States. The latest is the cancellation of visas for Chinese students; there was also the suspension of student visa interviews. Manuel’s F-1 visa arrived just four days before that announcement. It’s a relief, but it’s not enough.

“My parents think even my personal safety could be at risk. I don’t know if we’ll encounter xenophobia or exclusion; being Latino in the United States could be a problem,” he notes.

In Trump’s offensive against universities, only Harvard has spoken out and clearly opposed the government’s pressure. Other institutions have opted to handle the Republican administration’s demands in a more docile way to avoid further cuts to federal funding. Columbia was the first major university to suffer cuts, and funding options for international students disappeared overnight. It was the first blow for Beltrán. Then, the possibility of a Fulbright scholarship, the emblematic federally funded study abroad program that is also a victim of the cuts, vanished. “The financial burden will be borne by my family, but now the uncertainty is whether we will even be accepted or welcomed in the United States.”

Determined not to change the life plan he’s invested so much in, Beltrán is looking for accommodation in New York, where he will arrive in August. Columbia University has contacted him and the rest of the prospective students from time to time to inquire about their immigration and visa status, but not much more. “I understand it’s part of the American academic system: we’re their clients; if someone doesn’t show up, there’ll be someone else in line to take their spot.”

Antay Miranda

23 years old, Chile

What Antay Miranda is feeling these days is anguish. With an approved scholarship to become an exchange student at San Diego State University and a plane ticket already purchased, she’s just waiting for her visa. “I was very excited until a week ago. But now the American dream is turning into a nightmare. I have mixed feelings. I want to be there to open new horizons, but at the same time, I feel uncertainty and fear that I might be discriminated against,” she says in a telephone conversation.

Concern has grown. In Chile, the only Latin American country in the visa waiver program with the United States, there have been cases of last-minute visa revocations, as acknowledged by the Foreign Minister of Gabriel Boric’s government, Alberto van Klaveren. Although Donald Trump’s measures are not specifically focused on the South American country, they are beginning to affect some Chileans, including those studying at Harvard University.

The latest salvo was the suspension of visas for exchange students. That’s what unnerved Antay: “I was surprised. I have an appointment at the U.S. Consulate in Chile next week. I don’t know if they’ll approve it or not. If they reject it, I’ve already invested money, and it’s money no one will get back for me. I regret having bought the ticket.”

Antay is considering what to do next. She thinks she chose the wrong exchange destination and that it would have been better to look to Europe: “I feel sorry and want to cry. I thought now was the time for the opportunity in the United States.”

María Ruiz

31 years old, Mexican

María believed the biggest obstacle would be financial, but since being accepted into the Master’s program in Photojournalism and Documentary Film at the International Center of Photography in New York, she hasn’t let the uncertainty, the anti-immigrant climate, or the latest news about the freeze on student visa appointments dampen her hopes of fulfilling her dream. “I knew the immigration and visa issues had become more complicated under Trump, but I’d been told that student visas were much easier,” she says a day after the new measures were announced.

Although she doesn’t have an appointment yet because she’s still in the process of obtaining her Mexican passport, she isn’t giving up. “The school sent us an email saying they haven’t received any notifications and that we should continue with our paperwork. They also told us that if we haven’t had an appointment yet, they’ll offer us a pre-appointment session to prepare. Some classmates were worried because we have to pay for the first part of the course this Saturday, but they told us that if they reject our visa, they’ll refund our money.”

Until recently, her biggest concern was finding the money to pay for the program, where she’s one of only 18 people accepted from around the world out of hundreds of applications. She even opened a donation page to try to raise the $15,000 it will cost for her master’s degree, but this Thursday she received the news that she’ll be awarded a full scholarship. The joy is bittersweet amid so many uncertainties. Whatever happens next, she takes solace in the fact that even if she doesn’t make it this year, the school will hold her spot until 2027. “I think it’s a time when we also have to share what’s happening, right? Beyond the fear, I’d like to do it.”

Anonymous

29 years old, Cuban

“It’s hard to be Cuban and not feel worried.” Although she prefers not to give her name for fear of reprisals, she doesn’t want to hold back from explaining what the climate of terror Trump has created means for so many people, especially Cubans. Next academic year, this 29-year-old Cuban woman, who lives in Spain, has a spot to study for a PhD at the University of Pennsylvania.

She is grateful for the support of the university, which has guaranteed her position, but the fear is always there. “As a Cuban, I feel very sad because of the feeling that freedom of expression is difficult to maintain. It makes me feel infinitely helpless to have to check my social media accounts to delete or silence any ideas that might jeopardize my admission and permanence in a doctoral program.”

She wants to study in the United States because she sees it as a unique opportunity, but feels constantly at risk. “I still believe it’s a country with many opportunities and whose universities have an academic prestige and scientific rigor that I don’t think will fade so easily or in such a short time.” Her plan to fly there in September remains firm, although she won’t feel completely at ease now or then: “Being Cuban makes me three times more concerned and I have to act before many things happen.”

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