On the Trump Administration's Recent International Student Policies
By TMP 43rd Editorial Board
Since taking office on January 20th, President Trump has terminated the legal status of 4,700 international students in the US, placing them at risk of deportation. Student activists like Yunseo Chung and Mohsen Madawi have been released from ICE detention on judges’ orders; others like Mahmoud Khalil remain under lock and key, while some like Ranjani Srinivasan and Momodou Taal have fled the country. The Milton Paper believes the US government is within its rights—and its duties—to protect its constituents from antisemitism. However, the Department of Homeland Security’s refusal to press criminal charges against the above students leads us to believe that the recent federal immigration crackdown instead has sought to strike fear into the hearts of all international students whose views do not align with those of the president. Revoking Harvard’s ability to enroll foreign students and pressuring Columbia to ban face coverings, including those worn by Muslim women, are the actions of a dictator. The Milton Paper does not take a stance on every aspect of federal politics, but our pledge to serve as “A Forum for Discussion and Thought” for all members of the Milton community, including all 133 international students, forbids us from ignoring the historic threats to free expression the US faces. The Milton Paper has always stood for press freedom; we will always stand for press freedom, whether in Hong Kong, Russia, Gaza, the US, or anywhere else. Moreover, we believe the principle of intellectual exchange across borders and cultures is not a liability for any nation but rather a positive good for all. To highlight the human dimension to an issue often described in statistics and ideological platitudes, six of The Milton Paper’s international student editors have volunteered to share their perspectives on the Trump Administration’s education crackdown:
Two notes: While the above opinion is meant to represent the board as a whole, the below opinions do not necessarily do the same. Also, we published some of these pieces anonymously in consideration of the safety of their writers.
Mira Lu ‘27:
While initially seeing headlines on social media, I confirmed the details through reputable sources including The New York Times and official statements from Harvard. As an international student from Hong Kong without a green card, I immediately reached out to international students at neighboring boarding schools to gauge their reactions. Many of my peers shared my concerns about the increasing political risks associated with studying in the United States. Harvard’s response, “Supporting Our International Students and Scholars,” resonated deeply with our collective anxiety about our educational futures.
America has long prided itself as a land of opportunity, yet Trump has threatened this foundational principle by shutting the doors to international students. In an era of political change, the law remains the most powerful umbrella for international students. However, this protection feels increasingly fragile; America is now a land full of political risks. This uncertainty about our educational futures is what concerns us most. Even if Harvard succeeds, the perception of America as a risky destination for international education may drive students to choose other countries instead.
The implications extend far beyond individual students. International students are vital contributors to America's educational excellence, scientific advancement, and economic prosperity. University and scientific research are the foundation of the country. Nearly 30% of students enrolled at Harvard are international, forming the backbone of both the American higher education system and scientific research community. According to NAFSA, during the 2023-2024 academic year, international students at colleges and universities in the United States “contributed $43.8 billion to the U.S. economy during the 2023-2024 academic year and supported more than 378,000 jobs.” Upon graduating, they continue to be a boon to not only the American but the global economy, for they are the strongest bridge to other countries. Those who return to their home countries are likely to become leaders there, engaging with American policy, trade, and relations. Undeniably, we live in an interconnected world; each and every one of us is part of the ecosystem.
The targeting of institutions like Harvard represents more than just a policy dispute—it signals a fundamental shift in America's approach to academic freedom and global engagement. While Harvard may be perceived as politically progressive, its core commitment to freedom of speech, thought, and research embodies essential American values. Yet, the most direct consequence of Trump’s move is the acceleration of international talent exodus, attacking the fundamental values of pluralism. Attempting to cut research funding, revoke tax exemptions or restrict international enrollment extends beyond punishing a single institution—they erode America’s soft power and global academic standing. They mimic authoritarian regimes—not democratic ones. When democratic values are compromised, so too is the credibility that fuels America’s influence abroad. The soft power of the United States over decades risks being diminished by a series of political liquidations. Such an approach is not only dangerous but also short-sighted; it sacrifices long-term international relationships and goodwill for fleeting political gains. America isn’t just shutting its doors; its silencing voices essential to a functioning democracy. It won’t just lose talent—it will cede academic leadership to rivals who oppose democratic values at their core.
This is not a triumph for the right wing; extreme measures against academia reflect the country’s growing intolerance of complexity, free thought, or critical spirit. The true crisis extends beyond Harvard’s challenges to how Trump’s actions reshape the nation’s spiritual structure, sacrificing not just individuals but the country’s future imagination. Moving forward, policymakers must seriously consider how to safeguard academic freedom and institutional autonomy while maintaining national security. This is no longer just a Harvard v Trump dispute. The stakes could not be higher—for students, for universities, and for American democracy itself.
For international students like myself, political disengagement is no longer an option. We must stay informed and involved, as our perspectives are essential to developing policies that balance national security with educational openness. We cannot afford to be passive observers— we are stakeholders in this system. Trump might claim that we “don’t have the cards” as he once told Zelenskyy in a February Oval Office meeting, but as those most directly affected, we must be part of this critical conversation about America's future as a global academic leader. Ultimately, the question isn’t just about whether Harvard can fight this policy—it’s whether America still believes in its own promise. The future of global academic collaboration hinges on whether America can remain a welcoming home for international talent. Our voices matter. Let us use them.
Anaïs Bricout ‘26:
“Wait, you aren’t an American?” I heard once from a fellow student at Milton. I shook my head and briefly explained my experience of growing up in Hong Kong. I love that city, and no one can ever take that away from me; on the other hand, I’ve always identified with American culture. I have an American accent, and my parents lived in the U.S. for years before I was born in Taiwan. I grew up looking to the U.S. as the “city on a hill.” I remember watching T.V. shows and movies set in Los Angeles or New York City and seeing myself living that big city life. It would be different from the world in which I grew up. I wouldn’t live in just any big city where life appeared infinitely small. I was inspired, and I always imagined myself coming here one day. When I was given the opportunity as I received my acceptance letter from Milton, all the dreams I had for myself—of creating the meaningful change that I sought for in the world—seemed feasible. On Thursday, May 22nd, those dreams suddenly faded into the background of an authoritarian and dictatorial announcement.
What shocked me most of all was the response of certain of my peers: “well, look at that, the competition’s gone.” Hearing my friends’ twisting of such a shocking and life-changing decision into an opportunity and a personal privilege was flabbergasting to me. I have lived around these people for three years—the same people who stood by my side as I panicked last year when my visa expired and I couldn’t come back into the U.S. after spring break, the same people who have heard me for years express my aspirations for becoming a civil rights lawyer. When I heard the news that day, my first feeling was not anger or disappointment but simply deep sadness.
I often hear comments in popular media or even on campus about the great uniqueness of “America.” The first democracy, the greatest democracy, one of the largest democracies. I didn’t grow up in one. I grew up in a city where my mother shushes me whenever I mention anything about the government. I grew up in a city where I had to stay for hours in a cafe until nightfall because roads were blocked as protests carried on right outside and police threw tear gas at terrified citizens. I hardly imagined such erasure of voice in the greatest democracy, but I now see that I was wrong.
Whether you agree with the protests that international students have carried out against their colleges and against the U.S. government, we must agree on one thing: to deny them that voice is inherently contradictory to American values and American democracy. International students and international voices have always been a part of American media and American culture. They would not be what they are today if not for the global order and society they are a part of. As such, denying one the opportunity to enter one of the greatest universities in the world is not denying someone because they are un-American: it is denying someone who could shape what it means to be an American, to be part of one of the greatest countries in the world.
When I hear my peers confidently go about their day because yet another one of their competitors has been knocked down the roster, I wonder where our capacities for empathy and compassion have gone. Leaders around the world worked for decades to inspire and to remind others of their responsibility to care for the people around them. Our greatest ability as human beings is to be able to dedicate ourselves to something greater than what we can do for ourselves: it is the ability not just to survive in our environment but to change that environment for the better. It seems to me, however, that many of us have lost that ability. What happened to our childhood selves who dreamed of saving at least one life or uplifting many? I find it appalling that my peers have not hesitated to look down at the world outside of their borders because it is different. I agree that much of what happens in this world is despicable and deserving of shame, but to think it only happens outside of the U.S. is to live in a blurred bubble. I ask that my peers think of the lives that are being changed because they can no longer come into the U.S. and experience the education they deserve. Those lives are not distant from yours; they are your best friend, your teacher, your mentor, your partner. I ask that my peers perhaps think of others before they celebrate for themselves. Let us be human before we fight against “non-Americans.”
Anonymous:
The United States has long been the top destination for international students: over 1.1 million students from around the world are enrolled in 2024. Like many others, I chose to study here after researching countries abroad, traveling 8,000 miles away from home, fueled by what I believed America stood for — boundless opportunity, rich diversity, and above all, freedom. Yet, as the current Trump administration frequently enacts policies targeting immigrants and international student bodies, I find the very ideals that drew me here unraveling. The fact that this column, in consideration of international students’ safety, has to be published anonymously, is ironic in a country that enshrined freedom of speech in its constitution. Recent anti-immigrant policies under the Trump administration have not only undermined the legal and moral rights of international students but also eroded the foundational values of the United States.
Starting in January, the Trump administration reversed previous policies and allowed U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) to raid schools, hospitals, and places of worship. Within the first 100 days of Trump’s second term, the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) arrested over 158,000 individuals, including immigrants and international students. Then, on March 14, The New York Times released a draft list of the new Travel Ban proposed by Trump to target the citizens of as many as 43 countries. The pattern is chillingly obvious: the Trump administration is deliberately enacting policies that target immigrants and international students. When the Trump administration revoked Harvard’s ability to enroll international students, I was angered yet not surprised. Now, just a week ago, the State Department ordered U.S. embassies to stop scheduling foreign student visa appointments. In a mere 5 months, the 1.1 million lives of international students were changed.
These rapid policy shifts have also drastically affected my personal life. My brother, who was admitted to a boarding high school, couldn’t attend due to the shutdown of foreign student visas. As for myself, I couldn’t return home for the summer for similar reasons. Several of my friends have chosen not to study in the U.S. and instead opted for countries they feel offer more stability to international students, such as Canada, England, and Australia. But we are just a small part of a much larger reality. I can only imagine thousands of other equally qualified students who were denied the opportunity to pursue a higher education simply because of where they were born or the passport they carry.
Many of the policies that the Trump administration has sought to impose not only undermine international students' rights but also directly violate the U.S. Constitution and affect Americans. Since his executive order, Trump has proposed ending birthright citizenship to the US Supreme Court, which could potentially disqualify millions of children from U.S. Citizenship. Trump’s attempt to end birthright citizenship by executive order not only violates the 14th Amendment to the Constitution but also spreads fear and chaos through the immigrant community. As the National Immigration Law Center states, “Trump’s long-term goal is to create a permanent underclass of people in this country who are denied basic rights, leaving them subject to abuse, exploitation, and violence.”
The political climate in the United States has increasingly begun to remind me of my home country, where authoritarian rulers force sweeping changes overnight. I left my country so I could escape the unpredictability of not knowing when my safety and my rights would be taken away, yet I am ironically experiencing this very fear in the U.S. now. Watching this nation, a flagship of freedom and democracy, face such setbacks has led me to question whether true freedom is ever fully attainable in any country. What begins as a targeted attack on immigrants and international students can soon extend to a broader erosion of rights for all of us, including American citizens. If we allow the Trump administration’s exclusive policies to go unchecked, we risk normalizing discrimination and eroding the very foundational values of this country. All of us are at stake, and all of us should act.
Anonymous:
As an international student from X studying in the United States, I watch with growing concern as the Trump administration's recent actions reveal a frightening shift in how America views people like me not as contributors to its academic and cultural fabric but as potential threats to be monitored, controlled, and expelled. The administration has revoked visas for over 1,500 international students across the country, often with little or no explanation. Officials ran the names of 1.3 million foreign students through criminal databases, flagging 6,400 for investigation and ultimately terminating thousands of student records. Many of these students, like me, came here to learn, to contribute, and to build bridges between our home countries and America, or at the very least, apply our knowledge attained here in the outside world.
It seems as though our presence here is not welcomed but merely tolerated, and that tolerance can be revoked at any moment. The administration claims this is about security and preventing campus disruption. But do a “few high-profile examples”—all within the First Amendment, really—warrant this action? It's not clear exactly why most of the students have lost their legal status. Such an environment of fear and uncertainty has led my international friends, even those who have not staked out political positions publicly, to monitor their own social media profiles, terrified that some small mistake might get them deported.
The climate of fear extends beyond individual cases—it's reshaping how international students think about their futures entirely. This isn't simply about applying to one less university or choosing a different program. It's about watching an entire dream collapse on itself: the dream of building a life that bridges two worlds, of contributing to both my home country and my adoptive academic community, of being part of something larger than nationalism and fear.
When a nation begins to view diversity of thought and international perspectives as threats rather than strengths, it weakens not just its universities but its democracy itself. This is not the America I came to study in, the America that promised opportunity, intellectual freedom, and the chance to build a better future through education. It is an America ruled by suspicion rather than hope, one that has forgotten that its greatest strength has always been its ability to welcome and benefit from global talent and perspectives.
As an international student, I am not just worried about my visa status; I feel for the symbolic death of an ideal—the idea of America as a place where knowledge knows no borders and where students from around the world can come together to learn, grow, and tackle humanity's challenges. And yet, even in these hard times, I do hold onto hope. Real change has always begun with individuals who refuse to accept that fear must triumph over understanding. I came here not just to receive a better education but to be part of a better world through building knowledge and connection. That mission does not end because policies have changed or because fear has won today. If enough of us—international students, faculty, citizens—continue to embody grace, openness, and the willingness to teach others, we could keep alive the ideal of what America could be, even when its government has forgotten. We have a say in not letting the future be shaped by executive orders, so let us choose connection over division and build the world we want to see, one conversation at a time.
Joanna Zhang ‘27:
At the start of Trump’s executive deportation policies, he appeared to be targeting international students who were engaged in political activism and protests, especially those who spoke out against Israel. I remember seeing the video of Rümeysa Öztürk, a Turkish graduate student at Tufts University, getting arrested in Massachusetts by federal immigration agents due to her public critique against Israel. Trump defended this crackdown as a “necessary move to keep America safe.” “If you come here to support Hamas, or attack our values, we will find you and deport you,” Trump threatened at a rally in Florida on April 10th.
However, it quickly became clear to me and many others that these threats were only the surface of something much broader and more alarming. Trump’s rhetoric about “extremist students” appears to be a political cover for a sweeping effort to scapegoat international students as a whole. Immigration attorneys and civil rights groups have revealed that many international students with no activist record, students who simply came here to learn, have also been quietly swept up in the administration’s dragnet. According to The Washington Post, since Trump took office on January 20th, over 4,700 international students have had their F-1 visas or green cards revoked without due process. Some were detained at airports upon returning from visits home, denied re-entry with no explanation.
As an international student from China, I feared that the education, thousands of miles from home, I had fought so hard to pursue, was quietly slipping away. Each policy announcement didn’t just feel like a news headline; it felt like a threat to the future of my peers and me and the very idea that education is a global, shared pursuit. Students like me come from all over the world, not just to study, but to contribute through research, dialogue, and culture, things that make the U.S. stand out as a highly developed and welcoming country.
Trump’s move to block the admission of international students to institutions like Harvard is not just legally indefensible; it’s morally, absurdly cruel. To deny someone entry to one of the world’s most prestigious universities, after years of dedication and merit, simply because they are not American, undermines not only the very principle of democracy this country claims to stand for but also the hard work and dreams of millions of students. “It's not just about Harvard. The policy felt like the collapse of a dream for which I fought so hard for,” my friend from Shanghai claimed.
Harvard is not just an American institution—it’s a global one. Its strength lies in its diversity, in the exchange of ideas that cross borders and challenge assumptions. Cutting off international students from schools like Harvard is not a show of strength but a retreat into fear and isolationism. The order hypocritically contrasts with Harvard’s response to the Supreme Court's ruling on affirmative action this time last year. Harvard publicly reaffirmed its commitment to diversity, not through quotas or checkboxes, but through a holistic vision of what makes education meaningful. They emphasized that diversity in all its forms, including geographic, cultural, and intellectual, drives academic excellence and shapes the learning environment.
As we international high school students navigate an increasingly uncertain political climate, it’s more important than ever to stay informed, connected, and engaged. While we may not have the right to vote, we still have a voice that must be used and heard. That means understanding our legal rights, building support systems with trusted adults and peers, and, more importantly, speaking up against Trump’s ridiculously problematic orders with faith and courage. In the face of fear and exclusion, we must choose to stay resilient and continue fighting for our place in the future we came here to build.
HT Xue ‘26:
Why are we, at The Milton Paper, publishing this column? Of the Trump Administration’s many actions, their attacks on international students has caused far from the most widespread harm; the millions of Americans losing medicaid under Trump’s new tax plan would certainly agree so. Why, then, is Trump’s suppression of international students’ free speech of such particular importance to us? Perhaps it is because twenty-six members of our editorial and writing staff are international students, many of whom are on student visas. Or, perhaps, it is because these actions target specifically private educational institutions, which for most of American history have proven untouchable by even the most despotic of governments. To me, though, this issue is important because of the constitutional crisis it represents.
Specifically, the indefinite detention of international students like Mahmoud Khalil without charge is a violation of due process and thus the 14th Amendment, and doing so for the purpose of suppressing dissidence is a violation of the 1st Amendment. These actions shirk the Constitution not just by technicality but by outright rejecting the spirit in which it was enshrined. The absurd irony of history is that people who live in its most significant moments often do not realize its magnitude, so let’s not forget that it is not, in fact, normal that the highest power in this nation simply ignores the Constitution. There is a list of countries in the world where government agendas supersede due process, and it’s shorter than you would expect; America once prided itself on having foundational safeguards against joining that list, but we now find ourselves squarely on it, among the ranks of countries like North Korea, Turkmenistan, and Haiti.
When I told my teachers, friends, and family back home that I planned to study in the US, many of them tried to convince me that this country is not as great as it is often perceived to be. They cited America’s gun violence, its callous wealth inequality, and its social disunity. I came here despite these critiques because I believed that they were mere policy failures, able to be changed by the right people in power. President Trump’s recent actions, on the other hand, have nothing to do with policy; rather, they are antithetical to the values upon which the nation’s very legal and moral foundations rely. The worst part is, these actions are so precisely in character for Trump, and his brand of politics so smoothly normalized, that I was barely even surprised when the news first broke.
I’m not going to pretend that Trump is doing anything that hasn’t been done before. This nation has had many constitutional crises involving denying due process to certain groups of people before: Japanese American internment during the Second World War and the Jim Crow era come to mind. But, we must realize that what Trump threatens is principally a crisis of equal historical magnitude. The difference is, we’re not reading about it in a history book this time. Instead, we’re hearing about it while going to school with people who are directly affected.
My plea is simple: to the extent that you can, get political. At a school like Milton, where burnout already runs rampant, I can’t ask you to take upon yourself the burden of acting as if we are in crisis. What’s undeniable, however, is that many of your peers are now at direct risk of losing their futures because of the actions of the Trump administration. As the term “slippery slope” suggests, this governmental impunity will worsen only if people begin to accept it as normal. So, I implore you to stay up to date on the situation, to never stop talking about it, and to act upon it as you see fit. Essentially, whether you support Trump or oppose him: whatever you do, never forget to treat the Trump administration as abnormal, because that’s what it is, and the only way to accept it as normal is to reject the fundamental principles that define what is politically acceptable in this country.