Why do people migrate?

This is a funny question for a Ph.D student whose entire studies focus on this topic. But I don't mean I wonder what theories of micro- and macro-analyses are out there to explain the movement of people across internal and international boundaries. I'm not asking about the decision-making models, household relative deprivation models, world systems theories or any of those academic inventions that attempt to explain immigrants. I know all of those (my professors may, of course, beg to differ).

What I wonder is, as a Dominican or a Guinean gets on a boat, as a Mexican crosses the desert, as a Guatemalan jumps the fence ... what on Earth are they thinking? In fact, as I got on a plane and landed in the U.S., ready to spend five years of my life studying here, what was I thinking?

People migrate because they believe it will improve their lives, whether it is to pursue greater economic and professional opportunities or to escape conflict. But life isn't all about economic security. Humans have all kinds of other needs too, and migrating can disrupt those.

I do remember exactly what I was thinking when I sat on the airplane on my way to the United States.

First of all, I was praying I didn't miss my connecting flight. I was also praying I had remembered to bring with me all the necessary documents to clear immigration, including a passport; student visa; an I-20 immigration form that tracks my permanence at Penn State; proof of support by the American institution; proof of residence in the home country; and evidence of intended return. And I was thinking about how happy I was to finally be independent and on my own. But in the back of my mind, most of all I was thinking about how guilty I felt.

I was proud of myself and proud that I had worked hard to earn the opportunity of earning a degree abroad. But I also knew my country was losing an important resource, and this made me feel guilty.

I reminded myself that there were no real job opportunities for me at home, and that studying and potentially working abroad was one of the best things I could do for myself and my family.

When you are an international student, people often ask you annoying questions. I have been asked whether my country has electricity or Internet. My African friends have complained of questions on whether people in Africa wear clothes, live in trees or see elephants when they look out their windows.

Many of them are surprised by the lack of insight Americans exhibit when asking such questions. And some even consider responding with, "No ... do you see bald eagles when you look out your dorm window?"

Personally, the most annoying question I am often asked is, "Do you plan to return?" I ask myself that question almost daily and don't have an answer yet. The easiest response is, "I am not an immigrant."

I am technically not an immigrant; I am a "non-resident alien." And I'm lucky, because I am here legally, and my journey was not threatened by obstacles such as sharks, exhaustion, dehydration, sexual assault, thieves or border patrol officers. But no matter how you arrive in a new country, the perceived economic gains, whether or not they materialize, are soon undermined by all those things a new society might not offer, such as emotional support, a feeling of belonging, or a lack of guilt.

And the lack of those things is enough to make some question their decision to leave home in the first place.

A few weeks ago I was talking with some friends, and one of them complained about how she did not enjoy living here. While she was extremely grateful for the chance to study at Penn State, she missed her family and her boyfriend, and she just couldn't adjust to American society, often feeling lonely and out of place. "I wish I could just move and start a great new life somewhere else," she protested. I told her that coming here was supposed to be my great new start.

And while it hasn't been easy, I wouldn't change a thing so far.

State College is full of immigrants. In addition to the conspicuous international students, faculty and staff, there are communities of refugees, service industry workers and other international immigrants. And every single one of us had to weigh the costs and benefits of coming or staying.

If you ever wonder what on Earth we were thinking when we came here, you can just ask. We might just give you a new perspective on your home and possibly come up with some annoying questions of our own.