Your Words Here: What it is to be a First Generation College Student

I’ve known that I wanted to attend college since I was in the eighth grade.  If you had asked me then where I saw myself going, it would not have been Columbia, but Augustana College in Rock Island, Illinois, the school my grandmother attended for a short time and the school my dad dropped out of.  I wanted to study English and journalism and I thought it was the perfect location and school for me to do that.  When I visited the school again during my junior year of high school, I left feeling disappointed, similar to what I felt when I had visited St. Ambrose University in Davenport, Iowa, and Loyola University here in Chicago.

Initially, Loyola was going to be it - the school I would attend fall 2007.  This was simply because it was the only school in the city I visited and I wanted to call Chicago home.  I don’t exactly remember how I found out about Columbia, maybe my guidance counselor introduced me.  But as soon as I looked into the school, I started having a better feeling about where I was going to continue my education.  I scheduled a visit and as soon I entered the Alexandroff Building where we were to sign in, I felt at home. Chicago.  Downtown, at the heart of things.  Columbia.  It was meant to be.

Telling my mom that I was sure I wanted to go to Chicago was difficult.  Not only was it that her little baby was growing up and becoming independent, but I wanted to continue to grow in what she considered a very unappealing environment - danger lurking around every corner, poor people harassing walkers-by, all around bad influences.  When the day came that I was to move my belongings to my dorm-apartment, many tears were shed and hugs given.  She was proud that I had made the decision to attend school and happy that I was following my dreams - things she was never able to do.

I feel that with each class I take, I am taking it for my mom, my dad, my sister, my niece, my entire family.  I am not just going to school here at Columbia, living in the city, for me, but for them as well - they experience what I experience because I live to tell them about the time I took the wrong bus for 40 minutes, the time a beggar sang to me on the street, and the time this happened and the time that happened.

Time flies.  I’m already a second semester sophomore.  In two years, I’ll be graduating. Graduating with my family right at my side.  I’ll smile at them from the stage with my diploma in my hand and think, This is for you, family, and this is for me.  I have a feeling my mom will want to make copies of my diploma to send to extended family and friends to show that I made it through college, the first in the family.

Kyra Nash
Marketing Communications