A Point of View: Lessons From a First Gen

I can’t remember exactly when was the first time that I heard the terms “first generation” or “first gen,” but I can distinctly remember the first time that I realized that I was, in fact, very different from many of my classmates who were applying to colleges and universities our senior year of high school. 

Throughout high school, I did all of the things that I thought I was “supposed” to do to excel and get into a “good” school: I ran for Student Council, participated in an abundance of extracurricular activities, maintained good grades, took SAT prep courses, applied for scholarships, and made sure I regularly visited my guidance counselor. I was as prepared as I could be — or so I thought. 

One chilly fall day, I remember sitting in the library working on an application essay before classes started. One of my friends and I were comparing notes on the schools we were both applying to when all of a sudden, this friend  turned to me and said, “Well, lucky for you it will be easier to get in school. You know, because of affirmative action and stuff. So you shouldn’t have to worry too much about the essay.” 

I remember my face feeling flushed and hot, and not knowing quite what to say. This was, after all, my “friend.” She was just trying to help, right? A knot of shame settled into my stomach. I should say something, shouldn’t I? But instead, I just feigned a half-smile, murmured, “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” and returned to typing on my computer. 

I didn’t tell that friend that the night before, I had stayed up until after midnight trying to help my parents understand the Free Application for Federal Student Aid (FAFSA). I didn’t tell her that I was taking the SAT courses offered by my public school because my parents couldn’t afford private tutoring or courses. I didn’t tell her that most of my money that I made working during my weeknights and weekends at Sears went into my college savings fund because I knew that my parents wouldn’t be able to afford my college tuition and board on their own. I didn’t tell her that I would read and re-read the essay I was writing because my parents, although both high school-educated, often could not help my brother and me with our homework due to night shifts and other responsibilities.  

None of this felt “easy” to me. However, I convinced myself that my friend meant well enough, and the conversation was never mentioned again. Fifteen years later, I wish that I had said something, anything, that might have given my friend a new perspective to consider. That moment was one of my first lessons as a first gen — particularly, as a first gen of color.  

My early ideas of college and university were shaped by sitcoms such as A Different World, and later, as I got older, films such as School Daze, Stomp the Yard, and Drumline. I marveled at the large, spacious green campuses, red brick walls covered in ivy, and white ivory columns.  

Growing up as a military child, I didn’t see many people around me go on to post-secondary education. Seeing college on TV and in the movies, even if it wasn’t completely realistic, was the closest representation that I had. Neither one of my parents, nor their parents or siblings, had attended college. Most of their friends were in the service or in careers that did not require a college degree. However, they were adamant that my brother and I would have better opportunities than they did — and for them, that meant ensuring that college was accessible for us. 

According to NASPA, Student Affairs Administrators in Higher Education, first-generation students (students whose parents did not complete a four-year college degree) comprise a third of all college students. First-generation students encounter a variety of challenges as they enter college, including navigating an unfamiliar preparation and application process, conflict over leaving their families and potential financial burden, lack of awareness of available resources, and self-doubt. These were all challenges that I faced in some way during my undergraduate career, and even navigated to some extent when I later went to graduate school.  

Throughout most of my undergraduate years, I struggled with feeling “good enough.” I had wonderful friends and supportive faculty, but college life was an adjustment. At any moment, I felt that I would be “found out” or that people would realize that I did not in fact belong. I often reflected on the discussion I had with my high school friend on college essays, and wondered if they were right. Instead of internships, I quickly took on a work-study program, which allowed me to work part-time in both the Psychology Department and the Office of the Dean of Students, and helped me pay for books, groceries, and the occasional movie off-campus.  

One of my greatest gifts from my college experience wasn’t just my education or my amazing professors (some of whom I still talk to this day), it was a network of other first gens.  Many of the friends that I made in undergrad were also navigating the same experiences as I was — from the small things like figuring out which dining hall had the best pancakes on Fridays, to understanding how to navigate the Financial Aid office and, eventually, job fairs. There was comfort in knowing that my friends could share my hopes, anxieties, fears, and pride in being the first out of our families to attend and complete college. 

When I graduated from college and started my first job, I navigated through a different challenge: Being a first-gen professional. Again, just as was the case before attending  college, I had never fully thought about the impact of being the first in my family to hold a professional role. And, just as was the case with being a first-gen student, there were no specific resources, programs, or support marketed to me — I just had to figure it out, unwritten rules and all.  

My mother and my aunts dropped me off for my final-round interviews the day after I graduated. We prayed in the car before I walked into the doors of the company I would spend the next seven-and-half years of my career. I didn’t realize how powerful this moment was until years later. It takes a village.  

In a recent study, the Pew Research Center found that first-generation college graduates often experience lags in comparison to their peers on key economic outcomes — in particular, lower income and less wealth than peers who have a parent with a bachelor’s degree or higher. First-gen professionals, like their first-gen student counterparts, face unique challenges and barriers as they navigate the workplace and professional environment.  

When I got my first job, I didn’t know that I should try to negotiate my salary (even if only for the practice!). It was the most money I had ever seen, and thousands more than my parents had made at my age. In my mind, I had “made it” — not only had I graduated, but I got a job in my field less than a week after my graduation.  

Soon, I realized that there were more unwritten rules to navigate in the workplace — the importance of finding mentors (and later, sponsors), building my network, not being afraid to ask questions, and always raising my hand for new opportunities and projects.   

Being first generation is often an overlooked aspect of diversity — it is not something that can be easily seen, and at times it may be hidden by first gens looking to fit in. However, first gens bring an array of diverse perspectives, unique life experiences, and backgrounds that cannot be ignored.  

I am proud to be a #FirstGen, and I am forever grateful that my experiences are uniquely my own. My greatest lesson? Be you, stay you, and know that you belong.