Trump Shatters Records: 85,000 Visas Pulled to Defend America’s Borders

Paul Riverbank, 12/10/2025Trump’s record visa crackdowns stir fear, reshape schools, and spark fierce debate over security vs. liberty.

Why so many visas pulled? The majority of reasons, it turns out, aren’t espionage or high-stakes threats. They’re DUIs, low-level assaults, theft. Together, these account for close to half the cancellations. Newly minted rules also freeze immigration from 19 countries—some already sitting on the restricted list, others newly flagged. And in Mexico, a cohort of six business executives, along with their families, suddenly found themselves stuck after being accused of using falsified documents to move would-be migrants, children included, across the border. The U.S. government says it’s a crackdown on the shadow networks that facilitate irregular migration.

The scrutiny doesn’t end there, especially for those in science and technology. The State Department rolled out a policy change for H-1B skilled worker visas—these are the highly contested permits for people hired in sectors like tech, education, or biosciences. If an applicant worked in fact-checking or online content moderation, their request may be denied. The reasoning: involvement in censorship, or even the appearance of it, is now grounds for exclusion. “No longer will our government label the speech of our own citizens as misinformation or disinformation, which are the favorite words of censors,” President Trump said in a speech that drew as much applause as consternation.

What’s unfolding outside government buildings is less headline-grabbing, but just as consequential. In neighborhoods from Houston to D.C., anxiety has seeped into daily routines. At CentroNía, a busy preschool not far from the Capitol, director Myrna Peralta explained why teachers stopped taking students outside for their usual short walks: “ICE vehicles are in the neighborhood. That really dominates all of our decision making.” To cope, teachers now push strollers down hallways, not city sidewalks. What was once a classroom became a library, following the abrupt end of a partnership with the local public branch. Everyone adapted—few by choice.

It’s not just undocumented staff who feel the pressure. Yesenia Vega, who teaches toddlers in Chicago and holds a valid work permit, was swept up by ICE agents while entering her school building. She wasn’t apprehended inside—the agents got her just steps away, in the entrance vestibule. Tricia McLaughlin, speaking for the Department of Homeland Security, clarified, “She was arrested in the vestibule, not in the school.” As if that distinction eased the tension now felt daily by her colleagues.

All of this has tangible consequences. Some educators, fearing a knock at the door or simply losing motivation, have walked away from their positions. Those remaining work with a persistent hum of stress—despite having up-to-date paperwork. “Our teachers are increasingly worried about what could happen, even though they’re doing everything by the book,” Peralta shared, adding that families are left scrambling to adjust childcare arrangements when staff unexpectedly disappear.

Then come the wider policy debates. The administration insists the new visa criteria on fact-checkers are a safeguard for free speech, intended to block those associated with online “censorship” from entering sensitive U.S. sectors. Critics, meanwhile, are uneasy. Carrie DeCell of the Knight First Amendment Institute in New York put it bluntly: “People who study misinformation or moderate content aren’t engaged in censorship. It’s the very sort of work protected by the First Amendment.” Still, at Foggy Bottom, the message is resolute. “Allowing foreigners to lead this type of censorship would both insult and injure the American people,” a State Department press officer told me, declining to elaborate.

The effects ripple out: parents calculate risks before sending kids to school; administrators shuffle resources to cover gaps; policymakers debate whether the country is leaning too hard into security at the expense of openness. There’s no consensus—just a country reconsidering, in real time, what it means to balance safety and liberty. The story, as ever, is still being written, one policy and one personal story at a time.

In the past year, more than 85,000 visas have been revoked by the Trump administration — a number that towers over recent precedents and left immigration attorneys shuffling through case files with a sense of disbelief. Among those affected are over 8,000 international students, double the figure recorded just a year ago. Ask a State Department official, and they’ll say it’s a necessary step: “These are people who pose a direct threat to our communities’ safety, and we do not want to have them in our country.” It’s a claim equal parts caution and calculation.Why so many visas pulled? The majority of reasons, it turns out, aren’t espionage or high-stakes threats. They’re DUIs, low-level assaults, theft. Together, these account for close to half the cancellations. Newly minted rules also freeze immigration from 19 countries—some already sitting on the restricted list, others newly flagged. And in Mexico, a cohort of six business executives, along with their families, suddenly found themselves stuck after being accused of using falsified documents to move would-be migrants, children included, across the border. The U.S. government says it’s a crackdown on the shadow networks that facilitate irregular migration.The scrutiny doesn’t end there, especially for those in science and technology. The State Department rolled out a policy change for H-1B skilled worker visas—these are the highly contested permits for people hired in sectors like tech, education, or biosciences. If an applicant worked in fact-checking or online content moderation, their request may be denied. The reasoning: involvement in censorship, or even the appearance of it, is now grounds for exclusion. “No longer will our government label the speech of our own citizens as misinformation or disinformation, which are the favorite words of censors,” President Trump said in a speech that drew as much applause as consternation.What’s unfolding outside government buildings is less headline-grabbing, but just as consequential. In neighborhoods from Houston to D.C., anxiety has seeped into daily routines. At CentroNía, a busy preschool not far from the Capitol, director Myrna Peralta explained why teachers stopped taking students outside for their usual short walks: “ICE vehicles are in the neighborhood. That really dominates all of our decision making.” To cope, teachers now push strollers down hallways, not city sidewalks. What was once a classroom became a library, following the abrupt end of a partnership with the local public branch. Everyone adapted—few by choice.It’s not just undocumented staff who feel the pressure. Yesenia Vega, who teaches toddlers in Chicago and holds a valid work permit, was swept up by ICE agents while entering her school building. She wasn’t apprehended inside—the agents got her just steps away, in the entrance vestibule. Tricia McLaughlin, speaking for the Department of Homeland Security, clarified, “She was arrested in the vestibule, not in the school.” As if that distinction eased the tension now felt daily by her colleagues.All of this has tangible consequences. Some educators, fearing a knock at the door or simply losing motivation, have walked away from their positions. Those remaining work with a persistent hum of stress—despite having up-to-date paperwork. “Our teachers are increasingly worried about what could happen, even though they’re doing everything by the book,” Peralta shared, adding that families are left scrambling to adjust childcare arrangements when staff unexpectedly disappear.Then come the wider policy debates. The administration insists the new visa criteria on fact-checkers are a safeguard for free speech, intended to block those associated with online “censorship” from entering sensitive U.S. sectors. Critics, meanwhile, are uneasy. Carrie DeCell of the Knight First Amendment Institute in New York put it bluntly: “People who study misinformation or moderate content aren’t engaged in censorship. It’s the very sort of work protected by the First Amendment.” Still, at Foggy Bottom, the message is resolute. “Allowing foreigners to lead this type of censorship would both insult and injure the American people,” a State Department press officer told me, declining to elaborate.The effects ripple out: parents calculate risks before sending kids to school; administrators shuffle resources to cover gaps; policymakers debate whether the country is leaning too hard into security at the expense of openness. There’s no consensus—just a country reconsidering, in real time, what it means to balance safety and liberty. The story, as ever, is still being written, one policy and one personal story at a time.