Wyne* first came to the U.S. from Myanmar to pursue higher education on a scholarship. After she arrived, the situation in her home country deteriorated drastically. She applied for TPS. The program gave her stability and eased the emotional burden on her family back home. But today, the Trump administration's termination of TPS for Myanmar has left Wyne in limbo.
Here she shares her story.
My daily life in Burma was shaped by fear and injustice. I grew up navigating restrictions on free expression, extremely limited political freedom and political fear that was always present. Ordinary routines such as school, work, social life were never fully separate, especially for someone like me working in peace building, from surveillance, instability and the knowledge that safety could change overnight. Things got worse after the coup as I participated in protests, public awareness campaigns, donations and the arrest of my colleague.
I initially left Burma on a USAID scholarship to pursue higher education in 2023, with the intention to return after graduation. After I arrived in the U.S., the situation in Burma deteriorated drastically. The military intensified repression, activated conscription laws, and moved forward with a sham election to legitimize its power. Returning was no longer safe, and even nearby countries were not viable long-term options due to discrimination and racism against the nationals of Burma. What began as a temporary academic journey became a need for protection. Hence, I applied for TPS at the end of 2024.
TPS gave me a sense of legal protection and temporary stability during an otherwise overwhelming time. It allowed me to remain in the U.S. lawfully. Even though TPS is temporary, it gave me breathing room and a sense that my life was not entirely on hold. TPS eased some of the emotional burden on my parents back in Burma, knowing I was legally protected and not at immediate risk of removal. It allowed them to worry less about my safety and focus more on supporting me emotionally as I navigated an uncertain future.
When I came to the United States, I hoped for safety, stability, and the chance to live without fear. I wanted to study, work, and contribute meaningfully and to build a life based on dignity rather than survival. I believed the U.S. would be a place where rule of law mattered and where people fleeing danger could rebuild their lives.
However, the termination of TPS has created immense stress and instability. It affects my ability to work, support myself, and plan for the future. For example, I applied for a TPS-based work permit in May 2025 and never received it, despite paying the full application fee of $550. This has left me without the ability to work legally while expenses continue to rise. As a result, I have been forced to seek alternative arrangements, such as cultural exchange programs that prohibit paid labor, despite holding a U.S. master’s degree, simply to secure shelter and food. The termination has also intensified anxiety about my legal status, as I am still awaiting a decision on my asylum application, now further delayed by the recent hold on asylum decisions, compounding financial insecurity and fear about long-term safety.
The abruptness and uncertainty surrounding the revocation feel deeply unfair, especially given the ongoing crisis in Myanmar. TPS holders are not statistics. We are students, workers, caregivers, and lawful community members who contribute to society. TPS does not give us luxury; it offers safety and dignity. Ending TPS without realistic alternatives forces people back into fear and limbo, not stability. Decisions about TPS should be grounded in reality, not politics.
To me, permanent protection would mean the ability to live without constant fear, to work without interruption, and to plan a future with confidence. It would mean contributing fully to the society I now call home and eventually giving back in ways that temporary status does not allow. It would be a second chance at life, not just survival and if given that chance, I am ready to serve this country and the communities I am part of.
*Wyne is a pseudonym.
