Students blog

As the semester comes to an end, many of us naturally begin to reflect on how the last few months went. Whether that be through calculating a final grade, updating your resume to include everything you’ve done, or seeing if you met all your goals for the year – all of it requires thinking about how things have gone in relation to a goal.

I tend to think about these things a lot. “What did I do this semester that I planned to do? What could I have done better?” I’ve put myself to a standard: to do everything I can the best I can, and no less. While this is something that is naturally programmed after thinking this way for the last 2 years of my journey in higher education, this last year in particular has made me aware of why I need to step away from that mindset.

Now, that way of thinking seems harmless, right? It premises on progress, encourages excellence, and all other tropes of the “mind of a successful student”; however, there is one portion of that sentence that poses the fault – “and no less.” That puts a boundary, and not a safety net, to the outcome of certain goals. If I failed, it meant that I didn’t accomplish what I had set out to do. It meant that if my plans fell short, then I did, too. This wasn’t to say that failure was something I couldn’t handle; failure was something I was well-acquainted with. But it meant that personal failure – the kind of failure that breaks the pathway you set your end-goals on – wasn’t a part of the blueprint.

I was set to go to a well-known research university after I graduated from community college last spring. I received a $20,000 scholarship from this university (which only 4 other students received), along with other Phi Theta Kappa scholarships. On graduation day, I felt golden: I was the first in my family to even consider university; I escaped homelessness and the confines of personal adversity and mental illness; and I did everything that my upbringing indicated I wouldn’t. I shared this with my graduating class as a student commencement speaker, and I was fully convinced that these previous achievements would continue to direct me toward that end goal of stepping onto my university campus that fall.

Well, it didn’t quite work out that way.

It’s probably easy to assume that the price-tag of prestigious American universities is rather high. You would think a first-generation, low-income student with substantial scholarships would have some financial fallback to make ends meet – not exactly. I went through the summer filing Financial Aid appeals, searching for potential loans for students with little credit history and no co-signer. I was genuinely determined to not let my socioeconomic status limit my future opportunities and everything I aspired for, so I persisted, blissfully perhaps. I was faulted because of missing tax documentation. As a child of a disabled parent who doesn’t understand the IRS any better than I do (and I barely did), this proved to be a serious challenge. My advisors and I met and put together all the documents we could, but it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t afford the remainder of my tuition and I had to withdraw one week before classes were set to begin.

Call it a foolish mistake – it was a necessary lesson.

I took the next semester off to reflect. Feelings of hopelessness and disappointment set in at first, but then so did feelings of thorough understanding and acceptance. Accepting that a drastic change to your plans can happenanytime for any reason was a reality that made me re-realize that it doesn’t have to end the journey. It just meant things were on hiatus, and that a streak of success can end and resume again. It also brought to light that Idon’tneed to be confined to a schedule and finish earlier to be competitive, and I can do what I aspire to do in any medium. All that matters ishowI do it with what is available to me.

Academic culture promotes the 4-year schedule for degree completion, while statistically,this has been debunked as the trajectory for most students. According to the National Center for Education Statistics, 60% of students at public institutions graduate within 6-years, 66% at private nonprofit institutions, and 26% at private for-profits [1]. There is this umbrella notion thatallstudents can graduate within 4 years, as observed in college marketing material with the numbers for “on-time/4-year” graduation rates. I have no doubt that there is at least one person in your classroom who will attest against this. Not everyone will fit into this cookie-cutter expectation, especially if you consider the trials and tribulations that come with different lifestyles and obligations, such as those that adult learners and international students must balance. This also applies to any facet of life, not just education – there is no single, linear approach to life. That outlook places unnecessary social and personal pressures that are discouraging to people who do not meet such a status quo.

So, the balancing act is one thing, really: mindset. In my semester off, I spent more time with my sister and nephew than I ever had before. I spent a lot of time considering state schools and their benefits, and how I could pursue my dream career at these institutions. I saved for future endeavors. I took some time to realize what I really wanted to do with myself, and what I could do well and with pride, leading to a change in major for me from Sociology to Anthropology. I gave myself the time to stop and think about a new approach to the rest of this journey I’m on, and I understood that I am the one walking down this path – not the path walking me. I need to be prepared for each turn that comes with it and I need to understand that it is all part of the narrative. It’s not about doing something at a certain time or doing it right, but rather doing what brings you forward and allows you to grow. Your goals will meet you wherever you end up, so long as you accept them and the opportunities leading to them.

I’m currently finishing up my first semester at Binghamton University, and I can say that I am living a future I never thought I would be.

Sources:

[1] National Center for Education Statistics

“Who are you meant to be?”

This question riddled my mind for the longest time.  It wouldn’t be fair to call myself a person who always knew what she wanted to do. However, this isn’t something that is reflected in my day-to-day interactions on campus. Each day I go to our small, tight-knit campus, all the interactions and experiences shared are beyond fulfilling. Yet, no one can see the years of perpetual acrimony that shadowed much of my life and caused me to ponder this existential question.

Defining my character

Mental illness became my handicap for several years, manifested in years of isolation and desolation. Having to grow up with minimal family support and direct myself through my educational endeavors has challenged me. The tribulations I’ve overcome have been definitive of my character.  I can come to terms with my history today. I’m no longer afraid of it.  It is my reservoir of experience that I look to when approaching challenges.  To know that I overcame those challenges and that I now step on grounds felt were once beyond my grasp motivates me. It also drives me to excite this inner realization in others.

Finishing a dream

My mom was in a 3-week coma following an accident 26 years ago, forcing a practical cognitive restart on her brain with a loss of a fully functioning memory. She wasn’t supposed to survive—but she did. I was her 31st birthday present! Before her accident, she was a high-achieving honors student, who had gone to the same community college that I’m currently attending. I think of myself as a vestige of who she was, as someone who is finishing a dream she once started.

Emerging from the shadows

In my struggle with mental illness I was absent for the greater part of middle school and high school. My true educational journey began with my community college career. “Find Your Start at Suffolk,” is my college’s slogan and is fitting to my situation. It’s something in which I genuinely believe. The appeal of community college was the idea that I could begin my academic pursuits without be haunted by a hanging apparition of my past. I knew there was a capable high-achiever who existed in the shadow of the young student who was burdened by mental illness and left in solitude for several years. In my two years at Suffolk Community College, I’ve been able to become that capable high achiever. I am a peer mentor, an officer for various clubs, and a newspaper contributing author. I am a leader on campus who is a representative of the institution and its constituents: our student body.  My friends and faculty in college have played a pivotal role in helping me grasp these achievements. I don’t think I would have nearly as stable a foundation without their guidance.

Sharing wisdom

Last year I was selected as a recipient of the Pearson Scholarship for Higher Education. In addition to the financial award, I have been paired with a Pearson employee as a mentor as I progress from community college to a 4-year school. Mentors are quintessential to the growth of all individuals. I know that without the support of a mentor, I would make a multitude of aimless mistakes. The service of mentorship is so selfless in the essence of what the mentor does—they’re looking to share their wisdom with you. My Pearson mentor is incredibly sweet, friendly, and she has such a thorough foundation under her. I am indebted to the knowledge she bestows upon me.

The financial assistance of the Pearson scholarship is the security of pursuing my ambitious education. Now that I have another source to cover my tuition and fees, I can devote other financial resources to investing in my future studies. I can now take on more study abroad opportunities to study cultural communication. These things that were once unfeasible are now within my reach, and this is a notion that motivates me every day.

The human experience

I will be graduating in the Spring as a communications major.  Through each shift in my uncertain educational journey, one thing that remains consistent is my desire to learn about others. My education is how I reconcile with experiences that I never had.  That’s why the humanities gratify me so much. Through my studies I learn about the human experience through objective, measurable means. I learn the practices and behaviors of humans to understand why we do what we do and how we do it. It helps me live my life at this moment.  I am a student leader; someone I once could not foresee myself as. I have full intentions on continuing to work at the core of my college’s activities to open opportunities for my peers through programming, workshops, peer-mentoring, and unconditional support.