The Trials of a Techie on a Work Visa (H1-B)
My experience living under a broken system. Note: I do not speak for all brown people.
If you are new to my blog, welcome! I had spoken about my experience getting laid-off in a previous post. In this post, I will talk more about the immigration aspect of it all.
A couple of months ago, I read an eye-opening memoir by Qian Julie Wang called Beautiful Country. It is based on her life as a 7-year-old when she first came to the United States. Her family immigrated to escape challenges in their home country, believing in the “ideals” of the US. The journey and hardships her family went through, after their arrival in New York, were truly heartbreaking. It was the first time I heard of sweatshops that operated in the US mainland by exploiting young migrant women and children.
Even though we came to the US under widely different circumstances, her story spoke to me. In one chapter, she beautifully articulated how her lack of visa status hung over her like a cloud, making her feel fearful every moment of her life. While I could never fully comprehend the magnitude of her fear, loneliness, and despair during those initial undocumented years, her words resonated deeply nonetheless. I, too, have lived with a similar shadow. I, too, have measured my words. I, too, have felt the instinct to avoid eye contact with police officers, especially those who are big, white and burly. I recognize that this fear may be irrational but not entirely unfounded.
Many friends of mine who moved to the US from India haven’t truly shook away the sense of otherness either. The feeling of being unwelcome. Most times, we may not even think about it. Other times, we actively try to forget it and “fit in“. But when any important life event occurs, we are forced to confront the issue of belonging.
For instance, I came to the US when I was 22, and for two years after that, I never went to the doctor. I would either call up my sister, who is a doctor practicing in India, or simply ignore it. I was shocked to learn about the exorbitant fees charged for basic health care and the need for expensive insurance to cover it. None of it made sense to me at that time, so I didn’t even try.
And, when we apply for jobs, we are constantly reminded of our status. I sometimes wonder if checking the box that asks for “Need for future sponsorship” causes the ATS to automatically reject me (it was proved in one case at least). And, what should I say about my race? “Asian” or “Do not prefer to answer”? What would make them actually take a look at my resume and see my potential?
In My Professional Experience
I was brutally reminded of my H1B status twice in the past: once, when the startup I was first at went through an acquisition, and recently, when I was laid-off without warning. At both these instances, I was advised to plead with HR. To ask them for more time, to be mindful of the H1B 60-day grace period, etc. Shamelessly, I did ask them and the responses varied wildly. The startup, even though it was dying, tried its very best to keep us employed and did everything it could to save everybody’s jobs, not just those on visas.
My recent ask, however, did not go so well. Not that they were unkind per say. They just did not care. We were only a number, a department that needed to be erased out. Just business, as usual. In one way, I didn’t mind that. I would rather deal with brutal honesty than fake sympathy that feeds baseless hope. My American colleagues sympathized and said all the right things but they could never truly understand what we immigrants/non-immigrants have to face.
For two weeks after the layoff, I was very stressed. I worried about employment but I also worried about missing my aforementioned sister’s wedding. I couldn’t sleep properly. I couldn’t talk to my family without anxiety seeping into our conversations. I couldn’t walk my dog without falling into taxing thought patterns.
I considered so many different options. I spoke to UCLA about switching to a F1 student visa. I considered getting a tourist visa after the 60-day grace period. I worried that I would lose my hard-won H1B status. In truth, I had not even planned on settling in the US. The long wait for green cards had turned us off that prospect years ago. But I did want to leave on my own terms. Getting deported is a common joke in the NRI1 community but it is a singular, scary type of humiliation no one wants to experience. Silver lining, I did find that my company HAS to pay for my ticket to India, should I choose to leave now. Yay!
In the end, I decided to consult an immigration lawyer. All the different options I had were muddling up my brain. I couldn’t decide on the best path forward. So I asked for help. And I’m so glad I did.
I spoke to a lawyer from Cambridge last week and she was both understanding and helpful. I had expected a cold, unsympathetic suit but she blew away my stereotype by responding with graceful humanity. She helped me go through each of my options - F1, B1, H1B, H4 (ugh) and highlighted the pros and cons of each.
Here is a short summary of the two main ones if you are interested:
My final decision:
I’m taking some time off! I need a break, desperately. This week, I didn’t even apply for any jobs. If my H1B CAP is indeed valid for six years, I have time. I can now really think about what I want to do, and where I want to go next. But for now, I am going to go home, spend time with my family, and enjoy a damn wedding.
The US media loves to talk about how the H1B program has been exploited by certain bad actors. But they gloss over how exploitative the system is in turn. Those whom the visa should rightly benefit - students and other talented aspirants - suffer an enormous ordeal from the start to far-away finish. The outdated lottery system with an illogical one-size-fits-all cap number, the fact that your visa is tied to one company, the alluring promise of a green card all combine to quietly wear away at a person.
If you have ever looked at Blind, and delved past the toxic cess-pool that it is, you can see how unhappy people (specifically, NRIs) are. My biggest question has always been why do they choose to stay in this country - for six, ten, twenty years even - waiting for a green card. Is money really worth it? Is it the schools? The Clean air? The ability to have a shiny new car? To be in Silicon Valley - the “tech hub“?
All questionable reasons in my mind.
To get another data point, I asked my cousin, who has been dealing with the green card backlog for more than 10 years now, and his answer was that time slipped by before he noticed. He had kept telling himself three more years, every three years. I have to stay with this-or-that company as they just started my GC processing. I have been in line for five years already, what’s five more? Etc etc.
In a way, I’m grateful I got laid-off. Without this shock to my system, I may have become him. I would have let myself believe that things will work out, maybe, after a couple of years. Now, my partner and I are actively looking at our options and figuring out what we want to do with our life. We are finally having to act on our decision to leave the US. We may not be able to do it at once, but taking those first steps and changing our mindsets was itself a big achievement. Instead of shelving it to a later day, we are thinking about it NOW.
More importantly, I realized that I didn’t have to take the seemingly safest path, or choose only what’s best for my career. It’s about what I want for my life overall. I was never the kind of person who would choose work/school over life, and the universe re-affirmed that I should not start now.
NRI - Non-Residential Indian.