Walking in an International Student’s shoes

By: Sarah Tychsen

Inhale…Exhale…Breathe. I kept telling myself over and over again. I could not gather
the strength to breathe as an enormous amount of pressure-filled my chest like there was no
escape. “Make a choice, you have to make a choice”, my mother and father exclaimed.
At that moment, laying underneath the covers with tears rolling down my face, I knew
the next words that came out of my mouth would change my life forever.
“Inhale and exhale and then spit the word out it is not hard,” I told myself. Apart of me
could not get myself to just say yes because I was so afraid of the what-ifs and the endless
possibilities if I made the wrong choice.
July 27, 2016, my family and I arrived at Johannesburg International Airport and made
sure my baggage was correctly checked in. We walked towards the doors where I knew it was
time to say goodbye and leave everything I had ever known behind. I kept telling myself it was
just a “see you soon”, but the air in the atmosphere became as cold as ice.
It was at that moment that I realized, I had either made the best or worst choice. I knew
there was no turning back. I felt weak and wept like a child in my parents’ arms. That lasted for a
couple of minutes but only felt like a few seconds. As a tightly knit family, moving across the
ocean to a new country was a grueling task to take on. I could not help but notice as I was saying
my final goodbyes that other families were saying their final goodbyes as well. Airports used to
be exciting for me, the thought of flying made me enthusiastic, but I observed that airports were
no longer that happy and exciting after all.
I pulled myself together, and while waving goodbye walked through the doors to make
my way to the hand luggage clearance area. As I started to make the long walk to the front of the
passenger line my mind was completely and utterly blank. I could not get myself to take a deep
breath no matter how hard I tried.
I was carrying my hand luggage in one arm while trying to rub the tears that did not seem
to come to an end from my eyes with the other. I went down a couple of lanes and as I am about
to get to the passenger line, I told myself, “don’t look back through the glass doors, don’t do it or
you will crumble.” Of course, I looked, I mean who wouldn’t. I saw my mother blow me a final
kiss and mouth the words, “it will be okay” I felt a rush of warmth fill my chest.
 I get through customs and head to the place where I am supposed to board and take a
seat. I pack the notebook my mother told me to not read until I am on the plane back into my bag
and tried to remain calm. The lady sitting next to me asked me where I was going, and I could
not hold back the overwhelming emotions I felt. I just sat there silent.
I felt mortified that I could not say anything, but luckily, I was saved by the microphone.
Bing, “Ladies and gentlemen boarding for flight 201 Delta airlines from Johannesburg, South
Africa to Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport has begun, we are calling Zone E”. Oh
boy, that’s me. “Breathe and pick up your luggage and walk towards the terminal”, I told myself,
in amongst feeling a grueling sense of guilt and shame.
I make my way through the tight rows and find my seat; I take out my notebook and
necessities and sit down. What felt like a lifetime only lasted 16 hours. The plane was so cold,
and the turbulence at 35,000 feet made me feel the sickest I have ever felt.
I spent most of my time pacing up and down the halls and before I knew it, it was almost
over. “This is your captain speaking, we have 30 minutes until landing, please secure all baggage
and find your seats”. The time had finally come – touch down.
I made it off the plane and to the customs check-in point, but the wait was not over. The
line was so long that it took me three hours just to get to the front. Exhausted and emotionally
drained, I missed my flight to Augusta and sat waiting several hours for the next one. When we
finally made the touch down into Augusta, I felt a sense of relief.
After some much-needed rest from jet lag and a trip to Hilton Head, I met with
International and Post-doctoral Services downtown about a week and a half later. Little did I
know my world was about to be turned upside down for the second time.
“Sarah, I am so sorry to say this, but you have the wrong visa. You need to return home
and apply for the F-1 student visa”, Miss Beverley Tarver exclaimed. I sat there in dead silence,
starring into the wide-open space.
“Sarah…Sarah, did you hear me?” Miss Tarver repeated over and over again. “Well isn’t
that just the cherry on the cake”, I told myself. I get into Augusta and from what I was told could
do my visa here, only to find out regulations had changed. I packed up half of what I came with
and headed back home to get the correct visa.
This meant more money for my parents and time wasted to not even do what I came to
Augusta to do in the first place. I waited and waited with a lot of patience. After losing six
months of eligibility to play golf for Augusta University, and time that I could have put towards
my degree. I felt useless. I felt ashamed because I had no time to process anything. Nothing
seemed to be heading in the right direction.
I felt like it was easier to give up, but I was not a quitter and one thing I knew for sure
was that regardless, I had to finish what I had started.
I traveled back to Augusta on December 23, 2016 – this time with my family. I was ready
more than ever to get the show on the road. I practiced hard and learned a lot over the six months
back home and was determined to succeed.
I met the golf team who were a fantastic group of girls and made me feel very welcome.
My nerves, if I had any left, hit me hard. I realized that being an athlete back home is the
complete opposite in comparison to what it is like here.
I was little to nothing in competition with the other girls on the team. I told myself that I
either have to stick with it and work hard or walk away. Two and a half years later, and I could
not be happier that I seized the opportunity that was right in front of me with both hands. It was
difficult at times to balance student life with an athlete’s life, but my coach taught me to “keep
my chin up and to always push through”.
Being an international student is difficult, you arrive in a new country in total isolation.
You do not feel as powerful as you did in your own home country. You realize that left, right and
center people are figuring you out because you do not act or speak the same way as them.
I started from the beginning, a clean slate and a new chapter that I did not know would
turn out to be quite the opposite of what I intended it to be. I did not think I would last and
certainly did not think that the people in Augusta would be so welcoming and friendly. I did not
think I would achieve even half of what I have achieved, or better yet call Augusta my second
home.
I will graduate this December, and the process for a new visa has started. I did not
initially want to stay. I wanted to finish my studies, get back on a plane ad leave without ever
returning. The urge to leave quickly changed when I realized just how much I belonged.
Of course, I feel similar emotions to what I felt when I was sent home, but not nearly as
bad. I feel safe, but also afraid and unsure of my future because at any minute I could hear
“approved or denied” by the Department of Homeland Security and that gives me goosebumps
just thinking about it.
 Apart of me feels empty and in desperation as I now wait five months to hear the news
that could again change my future. The questions in my head that appear every day such as “Did
my parents waste all this money for nothing in the end?” or “Am I good enough to stay?” or
“Will I get good news? Do I fear my future? Most definitely. As international students, the fight
to stay begins from the moment the word, “yes” comes out of our mouths. Would I change my
decision to move here?
I started a new and exciting journey three years ago, and all I can do as an international
student is live in the moment, trust the process, and hold onto every last bit of hope that I have
left inside of me knowing that I am right where I am supposed to be.