Between Two Worlds: An International Educator's Reflection

For the past 15 years, part of my identity has been centered around being an international educator. When people ask me what I do, I always find it hard to explain, so I usually just say I'm an international educator. While that can sometimes elicit more questions, when I say I work with international students, they seem to understand. Being part of the international education community has helped me navigate this past year.

I was born in Canada to parents from the United States and have cherished and leaned into my Canadian identity as I've navigated my work. My family moved to the United States when I was in high school, and I completed my undergraduate degree on the East Coast. I'm now grateful for the opportunity to live and work in the United States as an adult. My personal journey allows me to understand, in a deeply personal way, what it means to feel caught between two countries—a connection that became especially meaningful in conversations with students this year.

The work I do with international students feels personal; it gives me purpose. I've always believed that everyone deserves the chance to learn, and I get to be a part of students' educational experiences at my institution. It's a complex job, which has required me to learn the ins and outs of immigration regulations. But I love it with all my heart. Even with the complexity and nuance of the work, it's the moments with students in my office when I come alive as I support them through complex immigration situations. Sometimes, this work is like a puzzle, and when you finish putting it all together, the most beautiful picture is revealed.

Seeing the Whole Person

This year, I had many students in my office who were navigating complex problems. This allowed me to learn more about their lives outside of the context of immigration compliance. The illumination of their broader humanity helped me see why they were choosing to learn in this specific moment at our specific institution.

Their personal stories, goals, and insights into their fields of study were enlightening. I could see why they wanted to be at this institution for this part of their academic journeys. Learning is fundamental for their futures, for their families, and for all of us. The stories were so varied, so steeped in history, and so inspiring; as I listened, I could see these students represented the next generation of leaders, a generation that will motivate others in turn.

Caught Between Two Worlds

One day in July, I sat in my office with a student for more than an hour. They had planned to do a summer internship in Texas with a great company but had decided against it due to personal circumstances. Instead, the student stayed on campus and continued taking classes toward their degree. They were enjoying the summer semester because campus was less busy and they had never stayed before due to visiting family at home. The student spoke about how much they felt supported by my office during their first two years at my institution.

As they spoke about their decision not to go to Texas, I continued to listen. I let them tell their story. When the student finished, I thanked them for their vulnerability and for putting their trust in me to listen to their story. And then, almost as an afterthought, they told me the real reason that they came to my office: They weren't sure if they still belonged here anymore. They weren't questioning their immigration status; they were questioning their place in the world. They said they felt like their life had been put on pause, caught between two countries, two sets of expectations, and two versions of themselves. The student wanted to know if it was normal to feel that way. As a Canadian-born American, I understood their feelings all too well.

I don't often get to have conversations like this with students, so I paused before responding. I told them that what they were experiencing wasn't just normal, it was brave. It was brave because they were still choosing to learn, to push forward, and to imagine a better future for themselves and their family amid all this uncertainty. The way their body and face relaxed as I said this made everything feel right. In that moment, I was reminded why this work gives me purpose. I don't just solve immigration puzzles; I also get to witness students rebuilding their courage right in front of my eyes.

Renewed Purpose

I think the student walked out of my office with a clearer sense of direction. But I walked away with something too—I felt a renewed sense of understanding that international education isn't just about paperwork, policies, or compliance. It's about helping people find themselves. That is what allows me to show up every day as an international educator in a community that supports and uplifts not only ourselves but the cherished students we get to work with. I'm proud to be an international educator.  •

Drew Dexter Ross, EdD, is a Canadian American international educator.