First Generation Student

Yesterday I put on my graduation regalia for the first time. Alone, in my room seeing a woman looking back at me. It was weird – I recognized her, but I also didn’t. As I stood there in my regalia, reflecting on the journey that brought me to this moment, I couldn’t help but feel so many different emotions. This moment wasn’t just about the purple cap and gown; it was about the many sacrifices me and my family had made that brought me to this milestone.  

I thought about the little girl who struggled to learn English in the first grade – oftentimes feeling like an outsider among my peers. I reached for the phone and called my mom. Busy packing, preparing to drive to my university and watch her cosita linda – her beautiful little thing – walk across the stage. Alongside her was my tia, who had flown in from Colombia just a few hours earlier to share this moment with us. As the tears and celebrations were exclaimed on Facetime, I realized how fortunate I am to be surrounded by so much love and support.

As a daughter of immigrant parents, I understand that my diploma and graduation is not just my achievement alone. It’s a culmination made by my parents. My mom, who came to the United States with two bags and her baby girl. The long days of cleaning houses and juggling serving jobs. My dad, who adopted me when I was younger, had taught me about strength and hard work. The endless nights of trying to teach me math at the dinner table.

I think about the young girl who was learning English in the first grade – oftentimes feeling like an outsider among my peers. I’ve lived a double life. It has always felt that I had to do more, be more, be better. Juggling a full time job throughout college and taking fifteen to eighteen credits each semester, nothing ever felt like enough. How can it be enough when your mom left her life twenty-two years ago – her family, her friends, her studies – to give you a better life with more opportunities. Imposter syndrome was a creeping cloud always following me. I never knew where I would go, or what I would do, constantly questioning if I was doing enough. College as a first-generation student felt isolating more often than not. I worked my junior and senior year at a college bar, serving students who were partying multiple nights a week using their parents’ credit card, tipping me very life. Staying up extremely late to do homework after a long shift at work often was so mentally, emotionally and physically draining. My parents, who frequently received calls from me sobbing from stress, were the foundations of my support. “Ya casi, mi amor. Si se puede” – you’re almost there, my love. You can do this.

As a first-generation student, this moment has been anything but easy. I had the love and support of my parents, but enrollments, registrations, course selections and such were hurdles I had to overcome on my own. I chose the major Political Science, with a minor in Women’s Gender and Sexualities Studies. This was my life’s passion. Since I was young, my mom has raised me to be a strong and independent women. She filled my cup with feminism and power.

Entering this major and minor provided a doorway for me to meet others with similar experiences – or at the very least valued my own. It has been a pleasure to engage in academic conversations surrounding human rights and equality. Professors fueled my love for Political Science – each teaching me new lessons and valuing me as a person. I found social organizations at my school – the Multicultural Student Center and the Sexual Orientation and Gender Identify Lavender Lounge – that were filled with people coming from different backgrounds.

The greatest advice I would offer other first-generation is to remind yourself there are others with similar experiences. University can feel isolating, but there are others who share the overwhelming obligations to their parents for the several sacrifices made. There are professors who provide extra support and guidance to their student, or also had similar experiences when they were in college. As a first-generation, it’s all about finding the opportunities your school provides the resources you need to be successful. It can feel you’re at a disadvantage compared to your peers coming from higher socioeconomic classes, but your school will have programs designed to help you. Also know the long nights will be entirely worth it. The long shifts getting you through college will finally be worth the while. When the time comes, and you share the sentimental moment with yourself first trying on your regalia, know that you did everything right. You learned the lessons you had to, you made the sacrifices needed, and you succeeded. You made it, and you should be so proud of yourself.

Yours truly, A First-generation student that will walk across the stage tomorrow.