JS

I moved to the States to experience the land of the free and the country of the legendary economy. Last week, I moved out to pursue freedom, jobs, and happiness elsewhere. Here is why:

In short, because the US forced me to. Have I broken or abused the law? Oh no. The American system sucks for people like me; that’s why. Of course, things aren’t just as simple, so here’s the larger story:

After graduating from a European high school, I was deciding what to do. I had some work to show, but nothing that would put me ahead of the competition, and my part-time jobs weren’t going anywhere. I wanted to continue my education, but I felt I needed to take a bigger step in life than just changing institutions. Not having a strong attachment to the country or the city I lived in, I looked further. I had traveled across Europe a bit already, and I wanted to see more. Sights but also mindsets. And so, I decided to look further beyond the old continent.

As I felt aligned with Western ideals of freedom and economic thinking and was (sort of) familiar with English, the places I started looking into were America, Canada, and Australia. Soon, the US became the focus, as it had the greatest diversity to explore. Still, it wasn’t an in-a-heartbeat decision, as it would mean ditching my friends, family, and familiar environment. Also, the education costs in the US are considerably higher, so all my hard-earned savings would go just for the first semester. Then I’d have to be on my own. But, after I counted my chances, pros, and cons, I was well-confident about the choice: I love traveling, exploring new places and cultures – check. I want to meet new people with different approaches, opinions, and beliefs – check. I want to improve my language – check. Become more independent; you know, stuff that goes along with the fact of being alone on the other side of the planet – check, check. I want to move forward – oh heck yes, check!

Research led me to the American Midwest, as living expenses there are much lower than anywhere on the coastline. I filled out a good amount of paperwork, sold whatever I owned to get extra cash, and got myself a plane ticket.

Right, let’s rock big time. It was many things at once, but I felt fantastic! I got to meet many hard-working, supportive people with values I admired. In fact, they were some of the best people I ever met. I got to fight through college classes in my third language, but I managed. Since photography couldn’t pay all my bills yet, I got to learn all sorts of new stuff while working to cover my expenses. We’re talking about how to build fences, put a new roof on a church, and so on.

Some minor downsides became invisible, outbalanced by tons of positive aspects. Even more so, I realized a way to connect my picture-taking and active lifestyle to a profession: journalism. I got lucky in a phenomenal program that opened many doors I didn’t even know about. And in the meantime, I got to see bits of the country, too:

Oh, amazing! I was genuinely happy, so when the end of my school (and my visas) approached, I was 100% determined to continue my higher education in the US.

I finished my associate degree without going a cent into debt. But I couldn’t just enroll in a 4-year university – while I was able to make money to cover my college costs, universities are more than twice as expensive as 2-year colleges. Given my international status, gaining funds while studying, both by legal work and by scholarships, is heavily restricted. That said, I was looking for another way to pay for school, and I found a visa extension that allows me to get a full-time job for a year. Okay, great! So, I filled out another pile of paperwork, paid another government fee, and got approved.

Applying for jobs all around the country, I ended up with a few offers and eventually started working in a field that I love: Shooting photos all day, sometimes all night, while meeting a ton of interesting people and visiting cool places. I focused on the job and forgot about the future, as things felt grand again.

Sadly, the future started to worry me once I did my math. I found flaws in my plan while researching my options for sustaining a university, as I realized that even with my savings, I was still some $30,000 short of finishing a degree even at the cheapest universities. Sure, debt is becoming a normal part of even in-state students’ lives and many folks in general, but that didn’t convince me of the merit of the deal.

Now you may think: “Well, so what? If he can’t afford it, his bad.” Fair, if it were simple as that, I wouldn’t say a thing. But it isn’t the case, and that’s the problem – and the point where it gets frustrating: Different states have different rules, but there is an insane double standard within immigration laws, which dictates that different people end up paying different sums of money for the same service. And what’s crazy is that in many cases, the system advantages those who, for whatever reason, do not cooperate with it.

When I attended college, I studied with people without documentation who were admitted for in-state tuition – meanwhile, I, with my legit passport and visas, had to pay more than three times as much. At the universities, the situation is similar. This absurd system annoyed me, and I knew it wouldn’t be enough just to fill out another form this time. Still, I didn’t give up: As part of my job, I got to photograph several state representatives, senators, and other people in power. And so, I tried talking to some of them about my issue with the implementation of foreign policies in education. One word: hopeless. Nobody was concerned; the vast majority wasn’t even aware of the problem. The governor of Kansas, Sam Brownback, who told me, “Hmmm, I didn’t know that there is such an issue,” basically spoke for all. Well, and I didn’t manage to get them to care.

I get that – the issue isn’t widely known because there aren’t many people like me. The masses of international students in the US universities as I experienced them are as follows, in descending order:

1. Sportspeople: They were brought here by universities that pay most or all of their bills.
   
2. Exchange students and visiting scholars: Short-term visitors who attended a foreign university with an agreement with a US institution, which grants them the same tuition rates as in their hometown, where they need to return to finish their degree.
3. People funded by parents or sponsors, who are lucky to be without financial hardship altogether.
4. Illegal immigrants, who pay just a portion of the fees compared with those with valid paperwork.
5. Guys like me, who came here because they wanted, with a legit passport but not a fat bank account to back them. The smallest group from the list, since you don’t find that many people willing to sacrifice pretty much all spare time and money only to be able to live somewhere they want.

The funny thing is that while at school, I constantly heard from the other mentioned groups (mainly the sportspeople) how miserable this place/school/country is, big time. Something served is easier to diss than something earned.

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So it happened that I ditched the plan to continue with education and looked into the options of just keeping on working here. In the end, I had a job, a place to live, a community...

“Why bother with school when I was all sorted?” I thought. All except for my legal status.

As it turned out, getting my work visa extended was not any easier. My employer would have to file a petition with the government stating that I am needed for the job and that they agree to pay me above the average. I know some people in academic or technology fields who scored this deal, but in journalism, I had no luck. My employer didn’t even pay all my overtime; paying any additional extras to keep me on wasn’t on the table, not to mention the annoying paperwork that would go with it. Other companies I asked told me “Sorry” as well.

There are a few other options. I could marry someone with citizenship and create a family, which would pave the way to a permanent residence permit. Some of my classmates went in that direction, but I didn’t feel like settling yet. Moreover, from an economic point of view, I could not justify having a baby before I felt I had the resources to afford one. In my eyes, that path led to increase in poverty than a happier life for any of the household members. Why does the system support it more than the education? Well, that’d be another essay.

Then there’s a different working visa to cover gaps in fields where there aren’t enough domestic laborers to fill positions. Unfortunately, taking photographs didn’t qualify. Wannabe legal immigrants can also enter a government-run lottery, which annually draws a handful of individuals who will receive a green card. No kidding! And yes, I tried that too.

One can also buy investment visas, but they start at $500,000... Right, nope. That leaves us with the final way to secure a legal stay: obtain some sort of asylum. But in the end, I’m not escaping from some totalitarian tyranny or war-torn country, so that’s a no-go as well.

The legal options for foreigners are so overcomplicated that even many locals know it. Some Americans I spoke to about my struggles suggested turning to the illegal route.

“I know a guy who can get you a fake driving license for just $500...”

But I didn’t want that. See, I thought that American values are that if someone is honest, hard-working, and has a clean criminal record, they prosper. After all, I heard some US politicians saying that America wants productive people to come and build a better community and a stronger economy. That included the president. However, the current White House administration was perhaps too busy filming funny YouTube videos, in which the president played basketball like “everybody does” or performed with stand-up comedians, to make my case any better. Ah well. Other politicians, on the other hand, defended the difficulty of getting visas. They told a narrative about “preserving the American culture.” Here, I asked, what does that even mean? I listened to US musicians and watched US movies for a long time before coming to the US. Geography was my favorite class, so as far as the knowledge of the country goes, I think I’d pass. What do they want to preserve? Is it the English language? Hey, I speak it. But almost every user manual, insurance or cell phone service contract, and information in shops is already bilingual in English/Spanish. I understand private businesses’ drive to do this, but many government-run places are signposted exactly the same. The more one looks into this, the more the whole protective narrative of US immigration suddenly sounds entirely like a big pile of bullshit. Never mind the obvious: Who, besides the native tribes, has the right to shame immigrants in this country anyway?

Oh, politics could serve as a case study of public relations, how the message and the actual intentions are often miles apart. I felt like any next official speech could be delivered while riding a unicycle. That said, those American values I imagined were clearly nonsense, but if not for them, I wanted to keep ethics and stay on a legal path for myself. After all, the sanctions for folks who came legally first and then turned illegal are worse than those who arrived illegally in the first place and didn’t get caught. I had to read these facts while applying for the temporary working permit.

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I got to a point where all the time I spent researching my options and fighting through the bureaucratic junk resulted in my happiness from the place suddenly on a much, much lower level. The only things that held me sane were my friends and occasional trips to the countryside. It wasn’t the American flag pinned in my living room anymore. At one point, the “How could I conquer the beast?” question started shifting towards “Why should I?”.

Thinking about it, I slowly realized there was another solution; one I completely forgot to consider because I just liked it over here so much: Leave.

The more I learned and the more pros and cons I weighed, the more I realized it might be the best option.

A couple of decades ago, the situation might have been different. During the World Wars, the majority of industrialized nations were turned into a pile of smoking rubble, whereas the US prospered with the mainland untouched. With plentiful space and resources, it was the place to go. Suddenly, America took engineers from Germany, imperial politics from the UK, art dominance from Italy, etc. Nowadays, however, as the rest of the world has recovered, there are many more choices. Many in the US were still loud about how the US is the best country ever, but to me, it started looking like this hall full of fascinating machinery:

One day, it might have been admired as a productive room fitted with beautiful and efficient pieces of engineering. But now, even if the factory owner advertised it as the best and most efficient there is, one could still recognize its state and see that it was not what was promised. Without adaptation and care, the apparatus rusted, and the workers are better off elsewhere.

From what I experienced, and I am honestly sad to state that, it is not the productivity, nor the merits of people, that matter. It is either their bank statement or their willingness to exploit loopholes. Either way, it requires a lot of luck. Without those, if you play by the rules, want to be independent, finish school, run a small business, or work hard as an employee, contribute towards the greater good... Too bad. So, while leaving wasn’t an easy decision, ask yourself: Would you pay tens of thousands of USD just to be allowed to live in your dream country (excluding actual living expenses)? Would your dream country be a place where you see others getting the same service for less work than what you do, even if they speak badly about it? Would your dream country address you as an alien, even if you pay taxes to it? I felt there was no room for me in the US. I realized I should leave.

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Nevertheless, don’t get the impression that I am leaving with a bad attitude. My overall experience was stellar, and I don’t regret the effort it cost. I am grateful for the opportunity to meet some amazing people, and I will miss them. I had a great time while earning my degree and photographing a variety of assignments. I also enjoyed visiting some of the magnificent places the nation has. Currently, I just have to move on.

I believe I will come back someday. I hope. It may take some time, though. I don’t know where I’ll end up, but it will be somewhere where I can be productive and ultimately, where they let me do so.

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Update 7/2020: I continued following the issue and ended up writing a more in-depth outline of options for foreigners to secure a stay in the US. It is not a cheerful read, but if you are interested, see it here. Alternatively, you can browse my Blog Archives for more articles.