When Being a Student Isn’t Enough

Durham feels different lately. When news spreads about ICE activity nearby, the air changes – quieter, heavier. Students share messages urging caution. For those of us on international visas, the unease lingers long after the moment passes.  

I came to Duke because I believed in its values – Respect, Trust, Inclusion, Discovery, and Excellence – and because I wanted to bring the best of my country to a place that celebrates global learning. I believed that being a student meant being safe, supported, and valued.  

Yet lately, holding a student visa doesn’t feel as secure as it once did. The national climate around immigration enforcement has shifted, and with it, the sense of stability many of us once relied on. For nearly 35% of the Sanford student body who are here on visas, this uncertainty is not abstract – it’s personal.  

I have lived through danger before. I grew up in Peru during a period of terrorism. I was in Brussels in 2016 when the airport and train station explosions happened. I have lived in one of the most unsafe cities in Latin America for women. I know what fear looks like. 

But this, this is different.  

This is a quieter kind of insecurity. It’s not the sound of sirens or explosions. It’s the sound of uncertainty, of wondering whether doing everything right is still enough to feel safe. It’s realizing that your accent or the color of your skin can make your presence feel like a question.  

I have never asked for extensions or accommodations. I’ve always believed that professionalism and commitment to my studies are my responsibility. But lately, even walking to class feels like an act of courage. 

Still, this is not a message of fear – it’s one of resilience and preparation. Because while fear isolates, knowledge connects. 

We, international students, are not asking for reassurance; we are asking for readiness. For guidance on what to do if approached by immigration authorities. For clarity about who to contact. For reassurance that, should something happen, our university will help us protect both our rights and our education. 

These are not radical demands; they are practical ones. They align perfectly with Duke’s values: 

• Respect means acknowledging the fear that students may feel and addressing it openly. 

• Trust means knowing that the institution has a plan and will stand by its students when they are most vulnerable. 

• Inclusion means not only celebrating diversity but also protecting it when it is under threat. 

I have seen the best of Sanford: the professors who listen, the classmates who reach out, the administrators who genuinely care. Those experiences remind me that this university has both the heart and the capacity to respond with empathy and action. 

This moment is an opportunity for Sanford to lead – to model how other schools can balance compliance with compassion, how they can transform uncertainty into preparedness. By establishing a clear protocol, organizing informational sessions, and reaffirming support for international students, Sanford can live out the very values that brought many of us here in the first place. 

To my peers, I say: you are not alone. There are student groups and community organizations that can offer guidance and solidarity. Keep your documents safe, know your rights, and remember why you are here. When fear rises, breathe. Our goals, our dreams, and our determination are stronger than the uncertainty around us. 

I have faced danger before, but what frightens me most is not violence. It’s silence.
And yet, I choose to believe that silence can be broken not with outrage, but with clarity, courage, and compassion. 

Let’s use this situation as the chance to show that its values are more than words.
Because when we protect each other, we protect what makes this university truly excellent.

See the co-created pdf on best practices when encountering ICE agents: 📌 TRILINGUAL ICE ENCOUNTER GUIDE