As the eldest daughter of immigrants, I was expected to be exceptional. Since neither of my parents went to college, I grew up knowing I had to work hard to attend higher education: and it wasn’t a choice. While I was extremely proud to be a first-generation college student, I definitely wasn’t ready to face the reality of college.
Who can blame me for being unprepared? I didn’t have someone who went through the college process to show me what the college experience was like. Even during the college application process, my parents were unable to offer any help or advice. I managed to get through the complicated process with help from friends and my guidance counselor but mainly through my own personal hard work.
Going into my freshman year of college, I was determined to make the best of my education. I spent my whole freshman year contemplating over my major and stayed undecided because I couldn’t make a decision. I was anxious to choose the “wrong” major — one that wouldn’t guarantee me success and money. I was fearful of instability (and I still am).
Even today, I don’t have an internship or a job lined up for me by my parents. I don’t have the connections that many of my peers have — which is disheartening. I feel as though others have a head start, and I am just beginning the race.
However, I know I am not the only one who feels this way. Knowing that there are other first-generation college students that feel the same way as I do gets me through the day. I know that I am undoubtedly privileged to be able to attend college — and even more so to attend BU. I am grateful for my opportunities, and I am willing to work hard for my future.
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