My OPT Years, Ten Years Ago
I once completed an LLM
program at a U.S. law school. I still remember, quite clearly, the process of
preparing for my visa interview — obtaining a bank statement to prove I could
cover tuition and living expenses. Between the one-year LLM program and the
year of Optional Practical Training (OPT) that followed graduation, I spent a
total of two years in the United States before returning to Korea.
As it happened, I finished
my LLM and started my OPT period right around 2016, when Donald Trump first
took office. News that the new administration was tightening immigration
enforcement spread quickly through the international student community, and many
of us worried that leaving the country — even briefly — might mean we wouldn't
be allowed back in. Around that same time, I was injured in an accident. I
badly wanted to go home to Korea, where I could rely on a healthcare system I
knew and trusted, but I was afraid that re-entry might be denied if I left. So
I stayed, enduring the pain, and delayed my return. I even took the bar exam in
that condition — and, fortunately, passed.
The real trouble started
afterward. Because I never got timely treatment, that injury still causes me
pain a decade later. So when people ask about my time studying in the U.S., I
can't simply say it was all good memories. The injury, and the months I spent
gritting my teeth through pain just to make full use of my OPT period, are
still part of me.
Still, Here's My Take on the OPT Fee Proposal
Even so, I find myself
looking at the second Trump administration's reported plans — tougher
enforcement against undocumented immigrants and a new fee on OPT — from a
somewhat different angle. To cut to the point: if the fee amount is
significantly reduced from what's currently being discussed, this could
actually turn out to be a reasonably sound policy.
Here's what has been
reported recently.
The Wall Street Journal reported on July 30 (local time),
citing multiple sources familiar with the matter, that the Department of
Homeland Security is discussing a plan to impose a $100,000 fee on OPT — the
program that allows international graduates on student visas to work in the
U.S. for one to three years. As of 2024, roughly 419,000 foreign nationals were
reportedly working under OPT.
— Newspim, “Trump
Administration Reviewing $100,000 Fee for International Students' OPT,” July
31, 2026.
A DHS spokesperson stated that “no policy should be
considered final until it is officially announced,” adding that “DHS is always
discussing how to use every tool available to protect the integrity of the
legal immigration system.”
— Newspim, same
article.
My reason for having some
sympathy for this policy is fairly simple. A student with enough financial
means to pay a reasonable fee is unlikely to have much incentive to overstay
illegally. In other words, if the fee is set at a reasonable level — rather
than the extraordinarily high figure currently being discussed — it could serve
as a middle-ground solution: discouraging unlawful overstays without shutting
down legitimate pathways to study and work in the U.S.
How Korea Faces a Similar Challenge
This isn't just an
American problem. In Korea, too, we've seen a string of cases involving
international students that go beyond simple overstaying — cases involving the
leaking of state secrets or core technologies — and it has become a serious
social issue. Some recently reported cases show just how serious this can get.
Student A, a Chinese
national who had been working at a university research lab in Daejeon, abruptly
quit the lab last year and left the country. Suspicious, the professor and
researchers discovered that A had copied the source code of a program the lab had
co-developed onto an external hard drive and taken it out of the country. The
professor persuaded A to return to Korea by mentioning unpaid research funding
that needed to be settled, then filed a complaint against A upon arrival. A is
currently under police investigation.
Student B, a Vietnamese
national researching electric vehicle battery technology at a graduate school
lab in Seoul, suddenly dropped out of school in 2023. B then went to Taiwan and
joined a local research institute working on similar technology. When B later
re-entered Korea, police investigated and found that B had smuggled out
research data through a cloud service. B was referred to prosecutors on charges
of violating Korea's Act on Prevention of Divulgence and Protection of
Industrial Technology.
— JoongAng Ilbo,
“Foreign Students Who Suddenly Dropped Out… Left Korea With Confidential Data
on External Hard Drives,” July 28, 2026.
The number of
international students enrolled in graduate programs in Korea is also rising
fast.
Last year, the number of international students in Korea
reached approximately 253,000. Graduate-level international students in
particular more than doubled over the past decade, rising from 24,160 in 2016
to 59,040 last year.
— JoongAng Ilbo,
same article.
Experts, too, are pointing
to gaps in the system.
Professor Jang Hang-bae of Chung-Ang University's Department
of Industrial Security noted that “while preserving universities' research
autonomy, we urgently need common research security standards and guidelines
that apply across all university labs, along with government-wide support.”
— JoongAng Ilbo,
same article.
Korea currently finds
itself in a position where it has little choice but to bring in foreign
workers, largely because younger generations tend to avoid low-wage jobs. That
structural reality makes it difficult for Korea to crack down on undocumented
workers as aggressively as the U.S. does. Still, I believe that as Korea's
international standing and appeal continue to grow, enforcement against
undocumented foreign nationals should gradually become stricter. This isn't
simply about protecting jobs for Korean workers — it's about the fact that
national technology and industrial secrets are now being leaked overseas.
Because this issue is directly tied to national competitiveness, I don't think
it's something we can afford to leave unaddressed any longer.
Closing Thoughts
The pain and hardship I
went through ten years ago were real. But that experience hasn't made me view
immigration policy in purely negative terms. If anything, it's given me a more
nuanced understanding of why reasonable controls and institutional safeguards
actually matter. I believe Korea, too, has reached a point where it needs to
seriously think about striking the right balance between openness and security
as it welcomes international students and workers.
