There is more and more elephant in this room; some thoughts on the ROI of US education for middle-class international families
When families reach out these days, whether it is a student messaging me late at night, a parent on Zalo or Whatsapp, or someone sitting across from me in the office, their questions are shifting. There is anxiety in the air before we even begin.
They know the names of the schools. They have done the rankings research, compared acceptance rates, watched YouTube campus tours. What they do not know is whether any of it is still possible for them. Every question circles back to the same one: Can a normal kid get an affordable education in the United States that leads to the OPT to H1B job ladder? Can the amount we have carefully put aside actually make it?
Families know what they want, but rising costs are now making them ask whether the price still justifies the path, whether the dream is still possible, or practical?
For most of my time here, families have spoken about international education in the United States with a kind of reverence. A U.S. degree represented not just opportunity but transformation, an style of education that led to a mindset and skillset different than was was available in Vietnam, a door to professional possibilities, and often an entirely different career trajectory. Now the tone has changed. The dream has not vanished, but it has been recalibrated through the lens of cost and risk. When the total cost of attendance edges toward 100k a year, even families in the upper middle class, the same families who once sent children abroad without hesitation, are trying to determine if this still worth it. It’s a valid question to consider.
For most, salaries have not grown at the same pace. Scholarships have not either. And when American (or Canadian – it’s not just the US) tuition inflation feels untethered from local economic reality, even the most globally minded families start to feel pushed to the margins.The goal is still the United States, but now many are comparing it against a wider set of pathways. They’re asking whether starting in European options like Aalto for a bachelor degree, or a Canadian option like Calgary, and saving the U.S. for graduate school might deliver the same long-term outcome at a far lower total cost. And in some cases, it might.
From the university side, the questions that families ask can sometimes sound price focused or purely comparative. Sitting with Vietnamese families, I hear something different. Money is talked about differently here; what can sound transactional from afar is usually pragmatism up close. They’re not trying to spend as little as possible. They are trying to spend what is sustainable for them, they are comfortable discussing that candidly, and they want to understand whether that investment will genuinely carry their child toward the future they imagine. Their questions come from concern, not cynicism.
What kind of job prospects exist after graduation? How accessible is OPT in practice, not only in theory? Will my child have access to internships and co-ops that offer real experiences that will be foundational for their career? How strong is the support system that helps international students secure those opportunities and guides them through the application process? What are the odds of securing an H1B in a political climate that feels more volatile than it did a decade ago? The unfortunate reality is that without those work experiences abroad, most degrees do not translate to significantly better opportunities when they come home.
These are not skeptical questions; they are rational ones. And the truth is that the answers are changing, or have already changed. The OPT and H1B pathways that once made American degrees feel like automatic springboards now look less predictable. Key industries are hiring more cautiously, and it is those roles and salaries that once made it easier to justify U.S. tuition levels. Vietnamese families see these changes, and that uncertainty is reshaping how families value international study.
Ten years ago, parents in Vietnam could point to almost no domestic programs that felt international in tone or curriculum. Today, universities like RMIT, BUV, VinUni, and Fulbright offer rigorous, globally oriented, career focused degrees for a fraction of U.S. prices. What makes them especially competitive is the alumni networks sitting directly inside Vietnam’s industries. Many of the top hospitality roles go to BUV graduates. Highly competitive positions within the Vin “ecosystem” often go to students from VinUni, who intern within the system, making connections from freshman year. Public university education here remains lecture heavy, but the local landscape is evolving quickly and parents are paying attention. They see credible alternatives that do not require sending their children halfway around the world or stretching family finances to a painful degree.
It is no longer “abroad or nothing”
Questions of ‘value’ are not confined to the families I meet in person. They echo in the Facebook groups where tens of thousands of parents compare notes, the WhatsApp and Zalo threads where people share scholarship tips, the quiet messages from students who just want to know if their dream is still realistic. The conversations are thoughtful and increasingly urgent.
Even when American universities and colleges try to center outcomes in their outreach, the information families need is not always easy to provide. Some institutions have strong data on internships, alumni pathways, and employability, but many do not. This is one reason I have been encouraging schools to build recruitment strategies around connecting prospective students with current students and recent alumni (link to article). In a culture where informal networks of anecdotal evidence have long been incorporated into important decisionmaking, families that can hear directly from a young person who is living the experience develop trust that no brochure can fully replicate.
And here is the part that keeps me up some nights: I still believe in what American universities offer. I have seen how a liberal arts education can push students to think differently, write better, question assumptions, adapt, and find their voice. If cost were not a factor, I would still choose it, over and over again, for the intellectual freedom and personal growth it fosters.
But cost is a factor.
International students are an essential component to liberal arts education, what they bring to the classroom, the community, is part of what helps justify the price tag. Yet the current model still asks international families to shoulder rising tuition in exchange for what is, at its core, a shared belief in the transformative power of a certain kind of learning. I am part of that belief. Many admissions officers are too. We have chosen to build our careers around it. I attribute so much of who I am to my undergraduate education at a liberal arts college. What is hard now is acknowledging, honestly, that this philosophy sits inside a financial reality that feels heavier every year.
So if you are an admissions officer reading this, I promise I am not asking you to fix structural problems you did not create. I know you are carrying conversations that are heavier than ever. You are often the first person families ask to interpret forces you cannot control, from visa policy to institutional pricing. You stand in front of a slide deck and try to make it meaningful for a particular student and parent in a particular room.
In those moments, what matters most is the way we stand alongside families as they navigate these decisions.
When you meet students and parents, talk about internships and work experience in concrete terms. Talk about the alumni network, especially if it genuinely opens doors in Vietnam or the region. Introduce them to current students and alumni. Host online panels focusing on how students are taking their major outside the classroom. Explain the team that supports international students with OPT and job searches, if your campus has one, and be honest about what they can and cannot promise. Be ready for price questions, because families will ask them. They know you did not set the numbers, but they will look to you to help them understand what those numbers mean in practice.
As an American, money is the ‘ick’ we love to avoid discussing. However, there is more and more elephant in this room. Families are not losing faith in education, but they do want to be shown it’s still worth it.
