For thousands of aspiring students around the globe, the dream of studying in the United States has long represented a beacon of hope, opportunity, and academic excellence. Yet, for many young people from a select group of nations, that dream has been suddenly and painfully snatched away. President Donald Trump’s travel ban, now in its latest iteration, is keeping out students from 19 countries, derailing educational plans and upending lives just as the academic year begins.
Bahara Saghari, a 21-year-old from Afghanistan, knows this heartbreak all too well. Barred from attending college in her homeland by the Taliban, she spent years diligently practicing English—sometimes up to eight hours a day—before finally receiving an offer to study business administration at a private liberal arts college in Illinois. She was on the cusp of realizing her ambition when new U.S. restrictions took hold. “You think that finally you are going to your dream, and then something came up and like, everything’s just gone,” Saghari told The Associated Press, her disappointment palpable.
Saghari’s story is echoed by thousands of would-be international students who found themselves stranded by the Trump administration’s travel ban and visa restrictions. According to the AP, the ban and its associated policies have affected citizens from 19 countries, many of whom had already invested considerable time, effort, and money into pursuing their U.S. education. For these students, the ban has introduced a wave of uncertainty and frustration, sometimes after years of preparation.
The scale of the disruption is significant. Last year, between May and September 2024, the U.S. State Department issued more than 5,700 F-1 and J-1 visas—the primary visas used by foreign students and researchers—to people from the 19 countries subject to the travel ban. More than half of those visas went to citizens of Iran and Myanmar, highlighting just how many students from these nations continue to seek out American campuses despite mounting obstacles.
Even for those who managed to secure visas, the summer of 2025 brought new roadblocks. The Trump administration intentionally slowed visa processing to implement additional vetting procedures, creating logjams that left many students in limbo. Others have been deterred altogether by the broader immigration crackdown, which has included abrupt terminations of legal status for some students already in the U.S. But the most formidable barrier remains the travel ban itself, which blocks nearly all new visas for citizens from 12 countries across Africa, Asia, the Middle East, and the Caribbean. While there are exemptions for green card holders, dual citizens, and some athletes, the vast majority of affected students have found the door to the U.S. firmly closed.
For Pouya Karami, a 17-year-old from Shiraz, Iran, the ban has meant putting his future on hold. Karami had focused his college search entirely on the U.S., drawn by the country’s unparalleled research opportunities in science. He was set to study polymer chemistry at Pittsburg State University in Kansas this fall, but the travel ban forced him to defer his admission until 2026. “I'm doing everything I can about it,” Karami said, explaining that he’s still preparing for his embassy interview and reaching out to U.S. politicians in hopes of changing the policy. Like many others, he’s holding onto hope, but the uncertainty is exhausting.
Myanmar’s ongoing turmoil has added another layer of complexity for students like Gu Gu, an 18-year-old who asked to be identified only by his nickname out of fear of reprisal. After his family saved for years to send him abroad, Gu Gu was overjoyed when he received his acceptance letter from the University of South Florida. “When I shared a screenshot of my acceptance letter in the family group chat, it exploded with celebratory emojis,” he recalled to the AP. But the celebration was short-lived. News of the U.S. travel ban arrived abruptly, shattering his plans to start college this fall. “I was all in for U.S., so this kind of breaks my heart,” Gu Gu said. He was unable to defer his acceptance, and with Myanmar’s civil war raging, many of his peers have been drafted into the military or joined resistance groups. For Gu Gu, the simple freedoms he hoped to find in America—walking to school, playing sports—now feel out of reach.
For Saghari, the journey to the U.S. became an obstacle course of bureaucratic setbacks. She postponed her July 2025 visa interview in Pakistan to August, only to ultimately cancel it after learning of the travel ban. Knox College, the Illinois institution that had accepted her, denied her request to defer admission. Undeterred, she turned her sights to Europe, applying to several universities. While she received a conditional offer from a Polish university—contingent on upfront tuition payment—her application is still under review as the school works to validate her high school diploma. In Germany, she was told she’d need to retake an English proficiency test, a daunting prospect given Afghanistan’s political climate and her previous struggles to access the exam.
The story is much the same for Amir, a 28-year-old Iranian graduate who declined to provide his last name for fear of being targeted. Amir was offered a fully funded visiting scholar position at the University of Pennsylvania, but the travel ban made it impossible for him to travel. Instead, he has continued his research in Tehran, all while his appointment at Penn remains postponed until 2026. “You lose this idealistic view of the world. Like you think, if I work hard, if I'm talented, if I contribute, I have a place somewhere else, basically somewhere you want to be,” Amir shared with the AP. “And then you learn that, no, maybe people don't want you there. That's kind of hard to deal with it.”
Trump’s rationale for the travel ban, announced in June, has centered on concerns about high visa overstay rates and perceived national security threats from countries with what he calls “deficient” screening processes. The administration has said the ban will remain until “identified inadequacies” are addressed, but for many students and scholars, the timeline is uncertain and the criteria unclear.
As the U.S. closes its doors to thousands of international students, the ripple effects are being felt far and wide. Some students, like Saghari, are looking to Europe or other destinations, but face their own hurdles—language barriers, upfront tuition requirements, and the emotional cost of abandoning a long-held dream. Others, like Karami and Amir, are left in limbo, clinging to hope while acknowledging the shifting realities of U.S. immigration policy.
For now, the stories of Saghari, Karami, Gu Gu, and Amir stand as stark reminders of the personal toll that global politics can exact on individual lives. Their aspirations remain undimmed, but the path forward is more uncertain than ever.
