On any given Saturday night in the East Village, heavy rhythms spill from Omar’s Kitchen and Rum Bar, a Jamaican restaurant tucked between two bars. Behind the turntable is first-year Eugene Lang College of Liberal Arts contemporary music student Aziza Brownie, DJing Jamaican beats with New York underground rap, weaving cultures together in real time.

She’s one of hundreds of international students at The New School using art as a bridge between worlds. From classrooms to bars, her work becomes a conversation between where she came from and where she is now, shaped as much by creativity as by the regulations that determine her legal status. 

For Brownie, who grew up in Jamaica and moved to New York to study contemporary music and music technology, live performance is both a celebration and a kind of translation. “I’m very patriotic when it comes to Jamaica,” she said. “My main goal here was to really spread that culture through music … and get to know more about America and the culture here.”

Across The New School, international students like Brownie navigate an increasingly complex tangle of their art and the political realities that define their presence in the United States. 

As visa restrictions tighten and the distance from home grows heavier, many young artists find themselves negotiating not just who they are creatively, but whether they’re even permitted, legally or socially, to remain.

For H.K., a second-year fine art student at Parsons School of Design who chose to be identified only by their initials, home has stretched across continents — from Korea to Maryland to Kazakhstan — before finally landing in New York. “I think what art is best at is pushing boundaries,” H.K. said. “Simply making any type of art is thinking differently.”

H.K. describes their work as exploratory — untethered to nationality and resistant to the expectation that international students create ‘cultural art.’ Raised between languages and systems, they channel that fluidity into their practice, moving between painting and mixed media in what they describe as “trying literally everything I can get my hands on.”

“I’m really trying to separate myself from making Korean art or Asian art,” H.K said, explaining that they’re more focused on making art that speaks to them.

Still, the immigration headlines are hard to ignore. They’ve changed the way they think about visibility — how even staying in the country can start to feel like an open question. “There’s this whole idea that international students come here … and take up space,” H.K. said. “I’ve sort of internalized … like, we’re not supposed to be here?”

The uncertainty has only deepened in recent months. In May, the U.S. Department of State temporarily halted new student visa interviews while ramping up social media vetting — an added layer of scrutiny that’s left many international students anxious about their status. The pause disrupted plans for thousands of incoming students and added pressure for those already enrolled.

At the same time, the Department of Homeland Security proposed ending the current “duration of status” policy, which lets international students stay in the country for as long as their academic program continues. Under the proposed rule, visas would shift to fixed four-year terms, requiring renewal upon expiration.

Similarly, in June 2025, the U.S. Department of State introduced reinforced social media screening requirements for all foreign students — a digital surveillance expansion that’s left many young artists wary of what they post online. For creative students like H.K. and Brownie, whose art and digital lives often overlap, those changes blur the line between personal expression and perceived risk. 

“If I wanted to speak to a particular message, at least here in America, in New York, I would have to be more knowledgeable … I read the news; I update myself on what’s happening … I just think that, me, personally, I don’t know if I’m the one to be making that type of art,” H.K. said.

For Parissa Bansal, a second-year communication design Parsons student from India, that balancing act feels less like censorship and more like caution.  

Her visa process went smoothly, crediting prior trips to the United States and her brother’s time studying in Boston. “I got my visa really quick[ly],” Bansal said.

Bansal arrived at Parsons after four years of portfolio preparation and a scholarship offer, ready to study at what she called her “dream school.” She explained how her portfolio consisted of many diverse projects, from logos, posters, and books to digital software work and ceramics. Having moved to the United States, Bansal mentions the book she brought from home that helped her find footing within New York City: Too Good to Be True by Indian YouTuber and actress Prajakta Koli. “That book really helped me and changed my perspective,” Bansal said, explaining that attending school in New York was her “first time coming into the real world and making friends, talking with strangers.” 

She said that she appreciates how Parsons professors encourage students to explore their cultural backgrounds. “[They] are really acknowledging and they really support you,” Bansal said. “It doesn’t feel [like there is] any racism or anything.”

Despite international students facing tighter immigration policies and heightened digital scrutiny, a continuity of creation persists at The New School. Here, making art feels less like proving a right to exist and more like existence itself.