When 22-year-old Gu stepped off his 29-hour flight from China at Houston’s George Bush Intercontinental Airport earlier this August, he was filled with anticipation. With a full scholarship to study philosophy at the University of Houston, a semester at Cornell already under his belt, and all his paperwork in order, Gu, like many international students, believed his American academic dream was within reach. But within hours, his hopes unraveled. Instead of heading to campus, he found himself detained, interrogated, and—after 36 grueling hours—put on a plane back to China, his entry denied and his U.S. ambitions abruptly cut short.
Gu’s story, first reported by the Associated Press, is not an isolated incident. In recent weeks, more than 10 Chinese students and scholars have faced similar treatment at U.S. airports, according to the Chinese Embassy. The embassy claims that these individuals, all with valid visas and official invitations from American universities, were subjected to lengthy interrogations, searches, and ultimately deportations—often under the pretext of “visa issues” or concerns that they “might endanger U.S. national security.”
The timing of these incidents is striking, coming as President Donald Trump’s administration has sent mixed signals about its stance toward Chinese students. Just weeks ago, Trump told Chinese President Xi Jinping, “we’re honored to have their students here.” Yet, as he added, “Now, with that, we check and we’re careful, we see who is there.” According to AP, these remarks followed a period in which the administration had considered revoking visas for Chinese students entirely—only to quickly pivot, with Trump later suggesting that welcoming them could help keep struggling U.S. universities afloat.
Despite Trump’s assurances, suspicion toward Chinese students—especially those in advanced technology fields like quantum computing and artificial intelligence—remains high among some U.S. officials and lawmakers. Some have even called for an outright ban on Chinese students, citing concerns about espionage and ties to the Chinese government or military. However, Gu’s case stands out: he was not studying a sensitive technology, but philosophy, a field not typically associated with national security risks.
Gu, who asked to be identified only by his family name due to the political sensitivities of his situation, recounted his ordeal to AP. After landing in Houston, he was stopped by a customs officer and taken to a small room for questioning. His belongings and electronics were searched thoroughly. The focus of the interrogation, Gu said, soon shifted to his ties to the Chinese Communist Party and the China Scholarship Council—a government agency that supports Chinese students abroad. Gu explained that while his parents are party members and, like most Chinese youths, he belonged to the Communist Youth League, he had never joined the party himself. He also clarified that although the China Scholarship Council came up in his chat history with classmates, he had not received funding from the Chinese government.
The questioning dragged on for three rounds, lasting a total of 10 hours. Gu said he was kept in a cold, brightly lit room without blankets or quilts for nearly 40 hours, getting almost no sleep. “I was so nervous I was shaking, due to both being freezing cold and also the nerves,” he told AP. “So many things were going through my head now that I was being deported. What should I do in the future?” When the ordeal ended, Gu was handed removal paperwork citing “inadequate documentation”—though he maintains all his documents were in order. He was then banned from returning to the United States for five years.
Gu’s experience echoes accounts provided by the Chinese Embassy, which stated, “The U.S. side has frequently carried out discriminatory, politically driven and selective law enforcement against Chinese students and scholars, inflicting physical and mental harm, financial losses, and disruptions to their careers.” The embassy added that some students were detained for over 80 hours, left to rely on aluminum foil for warmth in frigid rooms, and questioned on matters unrelated to their academic work. “Such acts by the U.S. side run counter to the statements made by Trump,” the embassy said, accusing some U.S. departments and law enforcement personnel of not “faithfully acting on the president’s commitment.”
For Gu, the consequences are immediate and personal. “There is no opportunity for the life I had expected,” he said. His academic plans in the U.S. are now on hold, and he is weighing whether to appeal the deportation decision—a process that could take years and cost thousands of dollars. Meanwhile, the uncertainty facing Chinese students in the U.S. remains unresolved. U.S. Customs and Border Protection did not respond to requests for comment, and the White House has also remained silent on the matter as of August 31, 2025.
Gu’s prior experience in the United States had been positive. He told AP that he enjoyed his semester at Cornell so much that he applied for a master’s program to continue studying philosophy. Despite hearing about stricter policies for Chinese students under the Trump administration, Gu said he was not too worried—even when first stopped by customs in Houston. But the reality he encountered was far harsher than he could have imagined. After hours of interrogation and sleep deprivation, he was left with little explanation and even fewer options.
The broader implications of these deportations are not lost on Chinese officials or the academic community. The Chinese Embassy’s statement points to a pattern of “discriminatory, politically driven” actions that not only disrupt individual lives but also threaten the longstanding tradition of academic exchange between the two countries. For American universities, which rely heavily on international students for both cultural diversity and financial stability, the chilling effect is real. As Trump himself acknowledged, Chinese students make up a significant portion of foreign enrollments, and their absence could have ripple effects across campuses nationwide.
Yet, as the policy pendulum swings between suspicion and welcome, students like Gu are caught in the middle. The lack of clear guidelines and the apparent disconnect between presidential statements and on-the-ground enforcement have created a climate of uncertainty that is unlikely to dissipate soon. For now, Gu is left to contemplate his next steps from afar, his American dream deferred, if not entirely dashed.
As the debate over Chinese students’ place in U.S. academia continues, the fate of individuals like Gu serves as a stark reminder of the human cost of shifting policies and the fragile nature of international academic exchange.
