Do you remember how you felt right before taking the ACT? Pencil in hand, wondering if you studied enough, and how this day would change everything?
Going to college is nerve-wracking. Thinking about financial aid, scholarships, your future roommate. But what about college students coming from different countries?
"I didn't know anything about this place and I landed here and I'm like 'OK let's do this,'" says Gal Dahan.
Gal came to Wisconsin from Israel in 2019 as an international student athlete. Times were different for international students back then. Still, Gal wondered if she made a mistake.
"America from overseas looks like the dream where everyone wants to be, where everyone wants to go," she explains. "So when I came here I’m like 'this is the dream,' and suddenly I realized, ‘ouch, is this the dream I wanted?'"
That dream would cost Gal more than just tuition. The demands of being a student in a foreign country led to panic attacks, but also lots of accomplishments, and eventually, a life of immigration limbo.
On Status Pending, a podcast from WUWM, we’ll look at how our immigration system works — and doesn't. And the impact it has on the people who are going through it.
Today, things have changed for international students in the U.S. in ways no amount of binge studying could get you ready for. So how did this process work? And what’s changed?
Following a dream
Gal is from a small village in Israel called Beteoshua, and ever since she was little she loved basketball. She's been playing the sport since she was six, and it's actually what motivated her to go to college abroad.
"The United States is the only place where you can combine education and sports in such a high level. So you can be a student and you can be an athlete, and in the United States you could be a student athlete," says Gal.
Gal didn’t come to the U.S. for college right after she finished high school. In Israel, service in the military is mandatory after high school for those who are capable. Gal served as a combat instructor for two years. Then, she did some traveling.
"What's very common about the Israeli culture, which I love, after we've been so under rules and so strict for a couple of years we go and travel. So I traveled with my best friend in New Zealand and Australia," she says.
In 2018 Gal started the process to study abroad, working with private agents who help international student athletes. They built a profile of her stats, basketball videos – things that American coaches can look at for recruitment. "Then they had a system that pretty much sends like hundreds and hundreds of emails to all over the country - to coaches, to schools. And you go to sleep at night and you pray that someone will reach out," Gal recalls.
"The United States is the only place where you can combine education and sports in such a high level."
A couple did. After her first offer fell through, Gal turned to Cardinal Stritch University in Milwaukee. She called up the basketball coach, John Pfaffl, to talk about the offer.
"I said, 'Hey is this still available, can we do it?' He said 'Let's talk.' The next day we talked, the next day I signed, a week after I showed up here!" Gal explains.
It took Gal about a year and a half to take the steps to get an F-1 student visa. She took the ACT and a Test of English as a Foreign Language. One of the things about student visas is that you have to prove you can pay tuition. Gal was lucky, she had support from her family and a partial athletic scholarship, so tuition wasn’t a problem.
However, Gal was less certain about the next part of the process: interviewing with the U.S. embassy in Israel.
"That day [was] so anxiety provoking because you're like, I'm going to go to the embassy and they're going to stare at me and ask me all the hard questions. So I had all the documents in one, like, packet. You give it to them and they started questioning you: 'Why are you doing this? Why are you coming to the States? What's your means? You say you're a student, you say you're an athlete, can you tell us what you're playing?' Things like that. They want to see that you're coming here with good intention," explains Gal.
Gal’s visa was approved on the same day as the interview. Within two weeks, a student visa sticker was added to her passport, and she was free to fly to the U.S.
Studying abroad doesn’t just benefit international students — colleges benefit, too. For one, international students don’t often get scholarships unless they’re tied to athletics. So, more money for the school. Plus, international students can help a college create a more diverse campus.
For colleges struggling with declining enrollment, international students can help with that, too. The school Gal went to — Cardinal Stritch University — actually closed due to low enrollment soon after she graduated.
Most colleges have an international office that works with foreign students. The colleges also work with U.S. Homeland Security, which issues paperwork, vets students, and monitors whether schools follow federal guidelines. So both the students and the colleges have to keep their paperwork up to date with the federal government.
Coming to Wisconsin
In 2019, with her visa in hand and a spot on the basketball roster waiting, Gal went from the shores of the Mediterranean Sea to the shores of Lake Michigan to attend Cardinal Stritch University in Milwaukee, Wisconsin at 22 years old. Right away, she and the other international students had a crash course in what they could and couldn’t do.
"One of the first things that popped [out at] me right away, that we're not allowed to work off campus — nothing. Anything is illegal," notes Gal.
Students under an F-1 visa also need to take at least 12 credits per semester to be considered full-time students. There’s also a form called an I-20, which needs to be signed by the university every 6 to 12 months to stay valid, and let you travel without complications. Gal says she also had to be careful to avoid any kind of outside trouble, like even getting a speeding ticket.
"The beginning is very overwhelming."Gal Dahan
While basketball was physically demanding and time consuming, Gal says it also saved her in a way. The court was a safe space she could rely on, and sport is its own international language. Outside of basketball, the cultural differences were a bit more pronounced.
"When I came here I was very ... ethnocentric, which means there's one culture that fits all, everyone behaves the same. And I truly thought like this, so I came here and I just assumed that my rituals, my expectations, my social behaviors like whatever that is would just fit what I grew up on," Gal explains. "This was far from reality, I just had no idea."
Adjusting to a new culture took years. During which she went through different stages of culture shock. First, the honeymoon phase.
"America — this is amazing! Like, oh my God I love this place, this is so cool! And you don't even think you're missing home because you're having so much fun," she says.
Gal was also a Jewish student at a Catholic Franciscan university. She swapped the crucifix in her dorm for a mezuzah — a scroll rolled up and attached to the doorpost of Jewish homes. But she assumed she had to give up most of her cultural traditions in order to be accepted. This meant leaving the Friday Shabbat candles behind, not celebrating the holidays she did back home, and instead learning about Thanksgiving and Christmas and trying to celebrate those alongside her classmates.
"The more I did it the more lonely I felt. I felt horrible and I felt like I had no choice, but I did because I was scared. What are people going to say? What are people going to do? And it's not that I'm doing anything religious, it was more cultural for me and traditional," says Gal.
It all took a toll on Gal’s mental health. She remembers having a panic attack one night her freshman year.
"I called my dad, I'm like, 'Dad I can't do this!' And he's like, 'Gal it's 2:00 a.m.! Can we talk about this tomorrow?' And I'm like no, that's it I can't do this. He told me, 'Gal don't think four years — just think about tomorrow... you don't have to do anything right now. Go to sleep, tomorrow's a new day, and we can talk about it tomorrow.'
I felt like I was locked. I have to stay here, I have to do this. So I told him I'm going back home, and he's like, 'OK when should I book your flight?' I [realized] I'm not stuck. [He said] 'I'm booking [your flight], when do you want to come?' And I'm like 'No, I have a game tomorrow, and I have an exam in a week, I can't!' And suddenly the reality kicks in," Gal explains.
Gal knew she had the choice to go home if she wanted, but she decided to keep trying. "It's worth it because this was my dream. Even when you dream there can be nightmares. It's still a dream, it's part of it," she says.
Eventually, Gal learned that she didn’t need to hide who she was.
"I wish just someone told me you can be yourself here. If you want to fast on your holiest day of the Judaism you don't have to practice today, you can fast. Because the moment I did my coaches were like, 'Of course!' But I didn't know," she explains. "I just assumed that it [was] wrong when in fact Stritch was so welcoming to everyone."
One of the moments she felt most accepted was when the Catholic school held its first ever menorah lighting ceremony for Hanukkah when she was a junior. Gal played a role in making it happen.
"They're like, 'Oh my gosh, this is so cool! Let's celebrate Hanukkah, all of us!' The [basketball] team was so fun and supportive, they took pictures with me next to the menorah. I still have those pictures," she remembers.
Gal says once she found her community, Stritch felt like home. She graduated in 2023 with degrees in corporate communication and social media and psychology.
Graduate school
"When I approached that stage I was like I want to stay here, how can I do that? The best thing you can do — F-1 student visa. Keep studying."
At 26, Gal wasn’t just facing the end of undergrad, but her visa too.
"When I approached that stage I was like I want to stay here, how can I do that? The best thing you can do — F-1 student visa. Keep studying."
She got accepted into another Milwaukee school, Marquette University, for a master's in clinical mental health counseling. That meant she could apply to extend her F-1 student visa. To do that, Gal flew back to the U.S. Embassy in Israel, paid the fees, got the updated F-1 sticker on her passport and came back to Milwaukee.
"I could breathe for two more years ... I wanted to stay. I was not ready to go back because I felt like I have more stuff to do here and I started to fall in love with Milwaukee, too. I felt part of the community suddenly and this is a place where I can imagine myself being."
At Cardinal Stritch, Gal had a built-in support system living on campus and being part of the basketball team. Her life as a grad student was lonelier. She even considered dropping out. Was staying in Milwaukee worth the $60,000 she was paying for this master’s program?
"So even navigating through the financial barriers — how am I going to pay tuition if my salary is so low? How can I do that? As international students we're not allowed to work more than 20 hours a week."
No matter what country you come from to study in the U.S., one thing is universal: it is expensive to be an international student. There's the cost of tuition, fees to keep your legal status up to date, spending thousands of dollars to fly back to your home country if you can afford it, cost of living, transportation, and so much more. Gal was able to make this work financially only because she had outside help. While she did get a partial athletic scholarship at Cardinal Stritch, Marquette was all out of pocket.
"People from my close circle, whether if it's like community or my family, helped me and supported me through this. But it is a barrier, I feel like, especially for international students," she says.
During graduate school, Gal had the biggest scare of her international student journey when a clerical error almost sent her home.
While international students aren't usually allowed to work off campus, there is one exception: an internship in your field of study. If you get approved, the internship goes on your I-20, the immigration form that international students need to keep up-to-date. Gal got an internship during her second semester, but technically she was working illegally.
"Long story very short, something fell between the chairs. I didn't know I needed to sign that form. I feel like the communication between the international office and Marquette and me, something was just not effective enough. So what happened was that basically I did something that was problematic and once my office found out, I got a very scary e-mail that basically [said] I'm getting deported unless I fix it now," she explains.
This error caused Gal to lose her visa. To get it back she’d have to leave the country. So, she spent the money to fly to Canada, renew the visa, pay the fee again and return to the U.S.
"My scare was at the immigration point in Canada, that I might be flagged in the system because it's a new visa," she explains. "That was my fear, and everything was fine. [The agent] looked at me and he said, 'Welcome to the United States,' and I entered. But I didn't know it's going to be OK [at that time]."
The stress of this experience still sticks with Gal. She didn’t want what happened to her to happen to any other international students.
"I had a long talk with one of the people at Marquette in the international office. [I said] you guys are our families, you guys are our guides. If you don't guide us we will fall — in the systems, with the laws, with the regulations, we will fall. So we need you to be communicative and care about us enough to not let this happen," she says.
After the near-deportation scare, Gal had everything squared away. With her new visa, she carried on and completed the master's program in two years. So what now?
In order to stay in the U.S., she would have to start a job in her field of study within 60 days of graduating.
Potential pathways to stay
Students on F-1 visas can stay in the U.S. temporarily to work if they apply for Optional Practical Training (OPT). Gal’s degree in mental health meant she could get permission to work for one year, whereas people in STEM can get three years.
Gal started filling out job applications five months before graduation and found more roadblocks.
"I wanted to work in a hospital setting, but here's another limitation: in the application process they ask you [if] you would require a sponsorship down the road, which means basically like a legal procedure for non-U.S. citizen to work in the U.S., and once you click 'yes' it it kicks you out of the application," she explains.
After lots of dead ends, Gal was offered a job as a mental health therapist at Hillary Counseling — a private, boutique practice in Milwaukee’s Third Ward.
Gal says, "For me to sit in that chair to give people the power and help them to do that in their own way, in a creative way is a blessing. And I can't do that anymore in a year — what am I gonna do?"
Remember, Gal’s work permit is temporary, which brings us to today. She's only allowed to work here legally until June of 2026 and her options to stay after that are limited.
"Those routes were designed for certain things, and I feel like it wasn't designed for [me]. Do your education, come contribute to the country, play for our team, bring us championships and get out. And I don't want to. I want to be here. I love the United States, I want to contribute to my Milwaukee community, I love Wisconsin," she says.
Gal has a few potential options, but none are simple or easy.
- Option 1: Marry a U.S. Citizen. While Gal says she’s lucky enough to have a partner who’s a citizen, she doesn’t want to put pressure on their relationship. "So that’s not the route I’m thinking and that’s not the route I’m taking unless we need to. And not because ‘Let’s get married to save [me].’ Just because of love and because of hope and marriage," she explains.
- Option 2: Apply for an H-1B visa. This is a sponsorship visa that the company you work for can apply for on your behalf, with a fee of course. The Trump administration recently raised that fee to $100,000 for new applicants. Before that, it typically cost employers between $2,000 and $5,000. On top of that, H-1B is a lottery system and there’s less than a 20% chance someone like Gal gets picked.
- Option 3: Apply for a business visa, which is a long and complicated process.
- Option 4: Go back to school for a doctorate to extend her student visa. But this might not be as straightforward as it used to be, since the Trump administration has proposed changes that would limit the time international students can stay in the U.S., and make it harder for them to work here.
"So there’s not always a path," says Gal." And even if you do think you took the right path, you might find yourself out the door."
"There’s not always a path. And even if you do think you took the right path, you might find yourself out the door."
International students have faced a lot of uncertainty during Trump’s second term. Some have been detained by ICE for their campus activism. The government is now vetting social media accounts from visa applicants, and there’s a travel ban on some countries. Israel is not included.
Right now, Gal isn’t sure which path she might take to stay in the U.S.
Living as an Israeli in the U.S.
In the last couple years, one of the most challenging things for Gal has been navigating the fallout from the war in Gaza as an Israeli in the U.S.
If she has to go back to Israel, she’s worried about her safety. There’s no predicting what the situation might look like by the time her work permit ends next summer. Gal says her brother and his wife almost died during Iranian retaliatory strikes against Israel back in June. She’s also lost a friend she sat next to throughout high school and couldn’t go back to Israel for his funeral.
The war also changed how Gal navigates her life in the U.S. She says she never felt scared to say she's from Israel until recently, and some of her friendships have come to an end because of it.
"I was never placed in such a hard situation like now, that the news and the things that my country [is] doing define who I am... I didn't choose to be born where I was," she says. "I didn't choose this war and I didn't choose anything that's related to it. So if you want to keep hating and you want to keep blaming, you can do that — not to me, because I'm not gonna let you. Hate is never the answer, war is never the answer."
Even with this tension, Gal wants to stay here. She's built a life for herself in Milwaukee that she loves and is proud of.
Gal has had a lot of identities over the past six years — most of them centered around being an international student athlete, then international graduate student. But with school behind her, how does she identify herself now?
"I had all those definitions my whole life and once I lost those I felt lost... But I realized that all those experiences shape who I am, and I don't have to have those tags to be valuable. So my name is Gal Dahan, I'm a therapist in Milwaukee. I love what I do, I'm 28, I'm from Israel and I love this life. It sounds so funny, but it's simple," she says.
