According to another large U.S.-based practice, one of the most disruptive changes is longer, and unpredictable, visa-processing times. (The new headline-grabbing $100,000 H-1B visa fee announced in late 2025 applies to people residing outside the U.S. who are first-time petitioners; the firm mostly hires foreign nationals who are already in the country, either as students or who are employed at another firm.) It now takes between eight and nine months on average to obtain an H-1B visa, which is for workers with specialized knowledge—if the application is processed at all. Because of this, paying premium processing fees, which cost around $3,000 per application, has become compulsory. Significantly higher immigration-related expenses have followed. In 2025, the firm spent $432,000 on these costs, a 68 percent increase from 2024 and a nearly fourfold increase from 2020.

The firm employs 136 people on visas, some of whom are from countries on the Trump Administration’s travel-ban list. The Department of Homeland Security has halted visa processing for all applicants from these countries. An HR manager from the firm says they’re still submitting renewals but have no idea if they will be granted before the employees’ current visas expire and the grace period for legal employment (240 days from expiration) ends. “I’m hoping by then the halt will be lifted, but we just don’t have enough information right now,” she says. When it can, the firm has begun to relocate employees experiencing visa trouble so they can keep their jobs. Last year, the HR representative found positions in international offices for 10 students who didn’t make the H-1B lottery (last year, the firm sponsored 37 visas but only nine people were selected through the lottery) as well as an employee who lost their temporary protected status. “One of my concerns is, in the future I may not be able to find as many places for folks that run out of time in the U.S.,” she says.

American Institute of Architects president Illya Azaroff says the organization is “closely monitoring” new policies. “Architecture is a global profession,” he says. “Firms rely on the ability to recruit and retain talented individuals from all around the world, and schools depend on international students and faculty to sustain both enrollment and the exchange of vibrant, new ideas that drive innovation.”

Before the Trump Administration’s changes in policy, it was difficult for foreign nationals to find sponsors for their visas and make it through the lottery. Now, a new weighted system for awarding H-1B visas, which prioritizes higher-earning applicants, is making it even harder for architects, who earn significantly less than lawyers, doctors, and engineers. A Tier I worker (where early-career architects would fall) has a 15.9 percent chance of being selected, while someone in Tier IV has a 61 percent chance. In 2024, 10 percent of H-1B visas went to people working in architecture. One architect who came to the U.S. on a student visa and now works in business development and marketing at a large Chicago firm says she experienced more difficulty finding potential employers to sponsor her H-1B visa than her friends who work in tech. She knows five people in architecture—recent graduates and early-career professionals—who chose to return to their home countries last year instead of building their careers in the U.S. “They’re like, ‘It’s too much to deal with. It’s not worth it,’ ” she says.

Architecture schools are also feeling pressure. In the 2010s, the percentage of foreign nationals attending accredited programs trended upward. But international enrollment has dropped in the last five years. According to a survey published in January by the Asso­ciation of Collegiate Schools of Architecture (ACSA), for the 2025–26 academic year, 39 percent of schools have had students withdraw from their enrollment because of visa delays or denials, and 50 percent said students deferred matriculation because of the same reasons. These changes arrive during a general student loan crisis, declining state budgets for schools, and the classification of graduate degrees in architecture as “nonprofessional” for the purposes of federal borrowing. Each factor has repercussions for architecture schools, explains José L.S. Gámez, the ACSA’s president. Private architecture schools are particularly susceptible to immigration policy fallout, since about a third of them have an international student population of greater than 20 percent, and these students pay more tuition than their peers with U.S. residency. “That will impact enrollment dollars pretty quickly,” Gámez says.

Academic freedom is hindered, too. Pineda, who teaches at Columbia University and the City College of New York, had scheduled a two-week field trip to Mexico for one of her classes. What would ordinarily be an exciting opportunity turned into a source of distress. “Parents [were calling students] and saying, ‘Don’t go on that trip. We don’t want you to be detained on the way back,’ ” Pineda says.

One policy area schools are closely watching is Optional Practical Training (OPT), a benefit for student visa holders that grants work authorization for a limited period. It’s a lifeline for students seeking internships and getting a foot in the door of a firm that might eventually sponsor them. Meanwhile, firms depend on this talent pool to fill entry-level positions. Last year, senators demanded a review of the program, describing it as a “cheap-labor pipeline for big business.” In February, Kristi Noem, the then-secretary of the Department of Homeland Security, said the agency was reevaluating the policy. Gámez is concerned, since many international students choose schools in the U.S. because of career opportunities after graduation. “Any­thing that limits their ability to go into the workforce is ultimately not going to be great for both academic institutions and the profession as a whole,” he says.

Foreign nationals employed at architecture schools are encountering new problems. Esther Choi, a multidisciplinary artist and Canadian citizen who has served as an adjunct professor at the Cooper Union Irwin S. Chanin School of Architecture since 2015, wasn’t able to obtain a signed letter of employment intent—which is different from a sponsorship—for her most recent renewal application for an O-1B visa (a nonimmigrant visa for those with “extraordinary ability” in the arts), even though she had a signed agreement from Cooper to teach a class starting in January 2026. She had obtained an employment letter of intent from the school for her previous O-1B renewal without issue and taught courses while she was in the country on this visa. Through a spokesperson, the school explained that its current policy is to offer part-time faculty of Canadian or Mex­ican citizenship a support letter for a TN visa, which is for nationals of those countries, rather than a letter for an O-1B. A TN visa is more restrictive than an O-1B and does not permit self-employment, a limitation for artists like Choi. “You cannot simply swap one for the other,” she says.

Architects aren’t taking the new political situation lying down. While there is more fear and vulnerability related to immigration, there’s also a greater sense of advocacy and responsibility from architects to do what they can to protect their colleagues, clients, and neighbors.

One solo practitioner based in Brooklyn, Elsa Ponce, decided not to hold an opening celebration for a center for New York City day laborers she had designed. “I wanted to celebrate this project in a very big way to launch my practice, because not many people know the work that I do,” she says, calling the project “a case study for immigrants who might be inspired to act and advocate for their communities.” However,” she adds, “the safety of the community always comes first.”

Pineda has focused her attention on the people building her projects. Around jobsites, she’s installed perimeter tape to clearly demarcate private property to prevent ICE from entering without a warrant. Her firm has also printed “know your rights” and emergency-contact forms for construction workers. “I think the profession is currently ignoring the people that it can’t survive without,” she says. “They’re not just workers—they’re skilled workers who have knowledge that we’re not teaching anymore. What are we going to do when we get rid of all these people?”

The hope is, future policy changes are for the better (though it seems unlikely in the current climate). “Every time there’s an administration change, something changes about immigration,” says that New York–based human resources director, who has worked in the field for over 30 years. “Sometimes it makes it easier, sometimes it makes it harder. I don’t know that it’s ever been this volatile.”