Dani E.

Photography by Kinsey Goodman

If you’re reading this, remember that first-generation guilt doesn't have to control your life.

Growing up I was the kind of person who liked to have everything planned out. I enjoyed planning ahead from something as big as my career goals to what socks I would wear with each outfit. Maybe I was like that because it allowed me to feel like I had control over the future or what was going on in my life.

Despite my planning ahead, nothing could've prepared me for the battles I had with my mental health and the events that caused said battles.

Being a first-generation college student and oldest daughter to immigrant parents who didn't get the opportunity to graduate high school, has always been an additional pressure when it came to living my life and making decisions. I felt the need to take advantage of every opportunity presented to me because my parents didn't have access to those opportunities. They were making the sacrifice to pay for my education, instead of investing in their own.

These pressures led to me spreading myself too thin when it came to course work-load, extracurriculars, and obtaining jobs. I essentially eliminated any free time I had for myself to actually live my life and enjoy the experiences that came with being a college student.

When I was in fifth grade my dad had a seizure and got into a car accident where a tree fell right down the middle of his truck. The truck ended up being totaled; however, he somehow walked away scratch-free. That accident led to the diagnosis of his epilepsy and years of doctor appointments trying to figure out what caused him to develop seizures at the age of 32.

Dealing with my father's condition was mentally the biggest hardship I have ever gone through. It took me a long time to realize that my father's health contributed to the decline of my mental health. Additionally, his medical expenses made me feel selfish for wanting to even attend a four-year institution instead of going the route of a more affordable community college. However, financial motivations never kept my parents from supporting me when it came to pursuing an education.

So why did I feel guilty? Why do I still occasionally feel guilty to this day, even though my dad’s epilepsy is now under control and is no longer a stressor for my family and me?

I still don’t have the answers to these doubts. What I do know, is that my parents will be there for me as I face the challenges of being a first generation college student. I know that more than anything they want me to have a successful life where I am happy with where I end up and am not battling to make ends meet.

I know now that the sacrifice my parents made was out of love and because they truly believed in me. If you too experience first-generation guilt, remember that sacrifice can bring great reward, and walk confidently in the opportunities presented to you.

Dani E., Virginia Tech

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