My family isn't so far from your typical, modern American bunch: I grew up in a small town, my parents divorced and each eventually remarried, I have multiple full, half, and step-siblings, we joke, we fight, and everyone works hard. However, like many American families experience, sometimes, it's really tough to make ends meet. In my experience, there have been times it's been more than tough. Between the spring of my junior year of high school and the time I left for college, I had to move three times, and my family had to move another within the first semester I was away. None of my now-four parents graduated college, and I'm the first of my siblings to go. The only reason I can go is because because I dedicated my entire primary education to getting as much money in scholarships as possible, and the government gave me a hefty amount of aid. College has been my only plan. While I'm more than glad to get out of my area code and away from the place I grew up resenting, it's not without hesitation. College is a financial burden in itself, especially on top of not having much to begin with. And being that it's the beginning of the semester, I know that I'm going to be feeling a mess of emotions; for those who may be embarking on this journey for the first time, here's what it's like to go away to college and leave a struggling family behind:
You have the time of your life in college. You make friends, you become independent, you do your own thing. You pursue your dreams. You do things you've never been able to do, whether it be because of previous lack of opportunity or funding, and you begin to envision a solid future for yourself.
You miss your family, but you feel weightless without them because you have nothing to worry about past getting your schoolwork done in time to go out on the weekend.
You want to talk to them, but you almost would rather avoid it sometimes because you don't want to be in the loop of what's going on.
You don't want to be reminded that they're less-than-great. When anything comes up, you worry constantly.
If they're helping you pay for your schooling, you feel responsible for not being there to help out in return.
You want to see them, but you also dread going home when things are more unstable than usual.
You start to ask yourself, "Am I being selfish? Is it okay to be here worrying about me and only me? Is there anything I could do even if I were there?" But on the other hand, it's one less person for them to worry about, right? It's emotionally tolling.
In fact, one of the strongest friendships I made my first year of college was with someone in the same boat as me, a little more worried than the typical student. We bonded over the fact that we were at school, careless as can be, while our families were both struggling to find places to live and take care of our younger siblings. We confided in each other these exact heavy, negative feelings, working our hardest to make everything worth their while and worth their money. Everything worked out in the end, fortunately, and we were then able to share our both literal and metaphorical sighs of relief.
This is a pretty deep subject to embark on, and it may sound slightly dramatic above, but it is a reality for many students from low-income families who make it to college and even pretty common for those in the dwindling middle class. Even if one family isn't struggling as badly as some others, college is getting more and more expensive, and sending a child to get an education can make even the most financially stable parents slightly uncomfortable. This feeling of worry, responsibility, and guilt, on some scale, is experienced by almost everyone I've met.
On this bigger scale, what does this common situation say about America's higher education system? Our youth should be nothing but excited about and focused on their schooling, especially with how much pressure they face to go to college. However, some are now choosing to not even go as an attempt to avoid this tremendous financial burden for the time it takes to get through school, and often, even years after they graduate. Those who do take this leap, like myself, are left with undeserved weight on their shoulders to make everything worthwhile. What does this guilt mean in the context of our economy and view on college?
Without completely opening this new can of worms, in the end, I think it's important for me--and anyone else in the situation--to realize that my family wants me to be here. This is my dream, and it is not selfish to go after it. Repeat, I am not selfish for pursuing my education. Education is the key to opening so many new doors. It is the beginning to everything I have always wanted for myself, and as long as I take advantage of everything college has to offer and get my degree, it will be worth it. As for my family, they'll get through it, like they always have; why do I doubt them now?
