Patrick Thaw experienced a bittersweet moment seeing his University of Michigan friends together for the first time since sophomore year ended. They were starting a new semester in Ann Arbor, while he was FaceTiming in from Singapore, stranded half a world away.
Last June, while interviewing to renew his US student visa, Patrick Thaw’s world was suddenly turned upside down by President Donald Trump’s travel ban. The restrictions targeted people from 12 countries, including Thaw’s native Myanmar.
“If I knew it was going to go down this badly, I wouldn’t have left the United States,” he said of his decision to leave Michigan for a summer internship in Singapore.
The ban was one of several ways the Trump administration made life harder for international students during his first year back in the White House, including a pause in visa appointments and additional layers of vetting that contributed to a dip in foreign enrollment for first-time students. New students had to look elsewhere, but the hurdles made life particularly complicated for those like Thaw who were well into their U.S. college careers.
Universities have had to come up with increasingly flexible solutions, such as bringing back pandemic-era remote learning arrangements or offering admission to international campuses they partner with, said Sarah Spreitzer, assistant vice president of government relations at the American Council on Education.
In Thaw’s case, a Michigan administrator highlighted studying abroad as an option. As long as the travel ban was in place, a program in Australia seemed viable — at least initially.
In the meantime, Thaw didn’t have much to do in Singapore but wait. He made friends, but they were busy with school or jobs. After his internship ended, he killed time by checking email, talking walks and eating out.
“Mentally, I’m back in Ann Arbor,” the 21-year-old said. “But physically, I’m trapped in Singapore.”
When Thaw arrived in Ann Arbor in 2023, he threw himself into campus life. He immediately meshed with his dorm roommate’s group of friends, who had gone to high school together about an hour away. A neuroscience major, he also joined a biology fraternity and an Alzheimer’s research lab.
His curiosity pushed him to explore a wide range of courses, including a Jewish studies class. The professor, Cara Rock-Singer, said Thaw told her his interest stemmed from reading the works of Philip Roth.
“I really work to make it a place where everyone feels not only comfortable, but invested in contributing,” Rock-Singer said. “But Patrick did not need nudging. He was always there to think and take risks.”
When Thaw landed his clinical research internship at a Singapore medical school, it felt like just another step toward success.
He heard speculation that the Trump administration might impose travel restrictions, but it was barely an afterthought — something he said he even joked about with friends before departing.
Then the travel ban was announced.
Thaw’s U.S. college dream had been a lifetime in the making but was undone — at least for now — by one trip abroad. Stuck in Singapore, he couldn’t sleep and his mind fixated on one question: “Why did you even come here?”
As a child, Thaw set his sights on attending an American university. That desire became more urgent as higher education opportunities dwindled after a civil war broke out in Myanmar.
For a time, tensions were so high that Thaw and his mother took shifts watching to make sure the bamboo in their front yard didn’t erupt in flames from Molotov cocktails. Once, he was late for an algebra exam because a bomb exploded in front of his house, he said.
So when he was accepted to the University of Michigan after applying to colleges “around the clock,” Thaw was elated.
“The moment I landed in the United States, like, set foot, I was like, this is it,” Thaw said. “This is where I begin my new life.”
When Thaw talked about life in Myanmar, it often led to deep conversations, said Allison Voto, one of his friends. He was one of the first people she met whose background was very different from hers, which made her “more understanding of the world,” she said.
During the 2024-25 school year, the U.S. hosted nearly 1.2 million international students. As of summer 2024, more than 1,400 people from Myanmar had American student visas, making it one of the top-represented countries among those hit by the travel ban.
A Michigan official said the school recognizes the challenges facing some international students and is committed to ensuring they have all the support and options it can provide. The university declined to comment specifically on Thaw’s situation.
While the study abroad program in Australia sparked some hope that Thaw could stay enrolled at Michigan, uncertainty around the travel ban and visa obstacles ultimately led him to decide against it.
He had left Myanmar to get an education and it was time to finish what he started, which meant moving on.
“I cannot just wait for the travel ban to just end and get lifted and go back, because that’s going to be an indefinite amount of time,” he said.
He started applying to colleges outside the U.S., getting back acceptance letters from schools in Australia and Canada. He is holding out hope of attending the University of Toronto, which would put his friends in Ann Arbor just a four-hour drive from visiting him.
“If he comes anywhere near me, basically on the continent of North America, I’m going to go see him,” said Voto, whose friendship with Thaw lately is defined by daylong gaps in their text conversations. “I mean, he’s Patrick, you know? That’s absolutely worth it.”
