In 2023, I returned to the Boston area — the city where I had graduated cum laude from Boston University with a degree in economics — after a decade spent building a career in Paris. Now armed with a master’s from the Sorbonne and ten years of international professional experience, I believed I was bringing a unique and valuable skill set back to the American workforce. The reality, however, has been a jarring series of professional setbacks. After being let go from two different client-facing roles, I embarked on a difficult and costly career transition into teaching and HR, only to find myself an unwelcome applicant for even entry-level positions. This experience has forced me, a 35-year-old U.S. citizen, to confront a question I never thought I’d ask: in a globalized world, why does coming home feel like starting over from zero?

My situation is not an isolated complaint, but a case study in a systemic friction that makes returning citizens like me personae non gratae in our own country’s workforce. This is not a niche issue. With an estimated 9 million U.S. citizens living abroad, according to the U.S. Department of State, the question of how we reintegrate our global talent is a significant national concern that we are currently failing to address.

The first hurdle is the stark devaluation of international credentials. My master’s degree is often treated as a novelty rather than an asset. This isn’t surprising, given that the U.S. Department of Education confirms there is no single federal body to regulate foreign credential evaluation, leaving the burden of proof — and cost — entirely on the applicant. The result is a form of “brain waste” mirroring that documented by the Migration Policy Institute, which found over 2 million college-educated immigrants are underemployed in the U.S. due to these exact barriers.

This leads directly to the second structural barrier: the “re-skilling tax.” To bridge this perceived gap, I pursued multiple U.S.-based certifications. This functions as a direct toll on repatriation. In my case, this meant spending well over a thousand dollars on exam fees and preparation materials for certifications that re-packaged existing competence rather than adding new skills.

The result is a frustrating paradox. I am told that I lack the recent U.S. experience for even entry-level roles, yet my decade of professional experience makes me appear over-qualified. This professional no-man’s-land is a direct result of the “out of sight, out of mind” problem frequently cited in repatriate studies, where returning professionals are offered unchallenging jobs because their international skills are poorly understood. The numbers bear this out: a survey highlighted by the Society for Human Resource Management found that only 39% of repatriates believed their international skills were used upon returning. It’s no surprise, then, that repatriate turnover is high, with some studies showing up to 50% leave their company within two years, often citing career dissatisfaction.

This isn’t just a personal problem. It represents a significant waste of talent. By failing to create effective on-ramps, we are not only failing these individuals, but we are also depriving our economy of their unique skills and global perspectives.

This is not a call for special treatment, but a diagnosis of a systemic inefficiency. In a hyper-competitive global economy, we cannot afford to let the skills of our own citizens go to waste. If we are serious about preparing students for a “complex world,” as the Massachusetts curriculum rightly aims to do, our efforts must go a step beyond the classroom. We must build a more rational and efficient “brain gain” pathway for our own people. Preparing the next generation for a globalized future begins by ensuring the professionals who have already lived that future have a meaningful place in it today.