Seated at a YYZ airport bar, I ordered a celebratory beer, pulled out my Canadian passport to triple check it was actually stamped, and let out a squeal of excitement. After an application process that had dragged on for several months, I’d earned a visa to work in the United States. Moments before, when I passed my final interview, the immigration officer smiled and declared, “congratulations and welcome.”

He knew as well as I did that I’d just endured extreme vetting by the United States government

Now, as the reality of the U.S. travel ban continues to sink in, I can’t help but wonder: what if that immigration officer had called me back and torn up my visa? Not only would that be cruel and capricious; it would also be counterproductive.

America already conducts extreme vetting on every visa-holder and refugee who enters the country. By banning many of them from re-entry, terminating ongoing applications, and barring new ones, the government is targeting precisely those who are least likely to pose a threat and most likely to contribute economically and culturally to the United States.

I could easily be one of them. As a Canadian immigrant of Indian origin, I may be safe — but only for now. Reports are already swirling about whether H1B visa-holders from all over the world — myself included — might be caught in the next executive order.

I never thought I’d have to justify my presence in the U.S., but here goes: in just a few years of residence, I’ve immersed myself in American history, guided visitors around the Smithsonian museums, and contributed to my community by volunteering at food banks and the English Language Center. Through my professional expertise in media development, I’ve helped shine a spotlight on social entrepreneurs, making it easier for them to create jobs, revitalize schools, and train a modern workforce.

None of this should surprise the United States government — it picked me out of thousands of qualified candidates because I posed no threat and promised to enrich my new home.

To ascertain all this, the United States put me through a gruelling vetting process — and I was born and raised in Toronto. My U.S. friends often joke that it must have been a piece of cake to hop down from America’s friendly, northern neighbour — but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Obtaining a visa to live in the United States is complicated, expensive, and lengthy.

You have to recount decades worth of details on where you’ve lived, worked, and travelled; immigration officials question you, your friends, and your family to understand your motivations and ambitions; and you’re on the hook for thousands of dollars, expensive lawyers, and an ever-expanding time commitment.

Still, my friends do have a point — hard as it is for me, a Canadian citizen, to obtain a visa, it’s much harder for immigrants and refugees from less privileged parts of the world. For example, refugees from Syria, one of the seven countries targeted by the White House’s travel ban are first screened by the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees. Then, a small group of referred individuals — including survivors of torture, rape, and political persecution — are subjected to intense vetting over multiple years. A senior Obama administration official called that process “the most rigorous screening of any traveller to the U.S.”

I keep thinking about refugees and visa-holders who successfully made it through this gruelling process right before the White House released its Executive Order. America will now turn them away. For 90 days or longer they will neither be able to pursue the opportunities they’ve earned nor reunite with the families they’ve been waiting to see, just because they were born in one of seven countries on a list. For many of them reaching U.S. shores from war zones, after earning a new start, they’ll be detained, deported, and left to feel unsafe again.

Had that immigration officer changed his mind as I sat, giddy, in Pearson International, he would have shattered my ambitions. Still, I’d have had the luxury of returning to a safe and welcoming country. The stakes are much higher for the exceptional, deserving individuals whom the White House has chosen to turn away. We’ll never know what they could have contributed to a country built on the power of immigrants pursuing their dreams.

Laxmi Parthasarathy has spent her career focusing on media development and social entrepreneurship. She currently works for a global non-profit, did her graduate training at the London School of Economics, and has lived and worked in Rwanda, Swaziland, Canada, and the United States. @laxmisarathy

Laxmi Parthasarathy has spent her career focusing on media development and social entrepreneurship. She currently works for a global non-profit, did her graduate training at the London School of Economics, and has lived and worked in Rwanda, Swaziland, Canada, and the United States. @laxmisarathy

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