I had no idea what to do when I began my college journey. It didn’t help that I took a gap year and moved across the country, so naturally, my mother couldn’t help. Even if she could, the process is so intense. FAFSA applications, Common App, finding scholarships, praying you could find a loan before the semester starts- it’s incredibly scary. Couple that feeling with not having any family members to help out… now that’s worse. First-gen students, if you are unfamiliar, are students who are the first to go to college (or graduate) in their family. I’m a first-gen student, and it’s awfully rewarding.
I’m lucky that my upbringing has allowed me to grasp foundational skills like knowing how to do my own laundry and grocery shop. But, I’ve always struggled. I’m angry at things that other people don’t even think about. I have to navigate resources others are born with. On the surface, of course, college is a privilege. Being able to afford tuition is a big contributor to the decision to go to college. But the culture surrounding college is even worse. Grabbing dinner with friends, paying for household essentials/food, transportation costs, essentially just having a social life: all these things are the hidden costs of going to college. And it seems to be inherently built against first-gen students- especially if you’re first-gen, low-income like I am.
During my first semester, I felt put together. I felt pride in caring for myself, especially with real-life examples of rich, privileged college students who didn’t seem to be. I didn’t have healthcare or money. But I felt okay. I was finally doing it. I was doing something that no one else around me did. Then, I came crashing down. My second semester was filled with doing everything I slacked on in the past. I did my taxes, filed for SNAP benefits, started seeking therapy, and finally signed up for healthcare benefits. I conquered the typical adult tasks that should have felt rewarding and motivating, but I never felt more like a child in my life.
I want my mom. I’m tired of working, providing, and fending for myself. I want the security of a middle-class, normal family. I’m angry that I have to grow up faster than my peers.
I started the idea for this article with an information bomb of resources for other first-gen students. Unfortunately, I can’t do that. I can’t simply write down the names of clubs or support groups for students like me because I know how frustrating that can be. Yes, I’m lucky to have this experience. Yes, I’m in debt and can barely provide for myself, but I am doing it. To all the other first-gen students, I hope you can understand this and know that I’m proud of you.
If I were to journey to try to give advice to other first-gen students, I will simply say that you don’t need to act like everything is okay. It’s tough. It’s rewarding and isolating and anger-inducing. I hear you. But I have to say, take advantage of everything you can. Enjoy this experience because your parents couldn’t.