My privilege
“Go to school, we didn’t, and now we regret it”
My family immigrated to the United States when I was three years old. We moved to Dos Palos, California, a small town with a population of less than 5,000 in 2004. We were fortunate that, despite the town's small size, there were a few other Punjabi families who lived there due to its location in the Central Valley.
I don’t remember much about living in Dos Palos, but I do remember my school. From what I recall, I loved it. I enjoyed learning new things and coming home and telling my family all about it. Even though English wasn’t my first language, I started learning it at an early age, so I didn’t struggle much with language barriers.
When I was six years old, my family moved to a new city. Due to how often my family moved within this city, I ended up going to five different elementary schools. Being the new kid almost every year wasn’t easy, but the one constant that kept me grounded was my love for learning. I knew even if I wasn’t making new best friends every time I moved, I would still be one of the most studious kids in class because I loved school so much. Being good at learning was my one constant.
My parents were proud to have a child who loved school. Both my parents attended school in India, but neither finished middle school. My mom dropped out in seventh grade due to family problems and my dad dropped out in eighth grade because the conditions at his school were so poor. To my parents, public education in the United States was the best opportunity they could offer their children. They instilled in me the ideal that I should never complain, but rather be thankful for the chance I had. “Go to school, we didn’t, and now we regret it.” Hearing this from my dad motivated me to push myself harder, and I would say it is one of the many reasons I have pushed myself all the way to law school.
In her book, First Gen: A Memoir Alejandra Campoverdi discusses the unique challenges that First and Onlys face, one of them being the “Lonely Hustle.” Campoverdi describes the First and Onlys experience as a “Lonely Hustle” because no one in our families can understand the struggles and journey we are going through. My love for school because of its familiarity in my life and my parent’s lack of familiarity with school made it a very lonely journey.
While my story may not mirror every First and Onlys experience, the “Lonely Hustle” is a common experience for my first gen peers. Whether it’s through finding community or developing boundaries, we all have learned to utilize different tools to cope with this loneliness.
One of the most important tools in my toolkit is my ability to realize what a privilege higher education is. Less than 5% of the U.S. population has a professional or doctorate degree, and that is the group we are striving to join. While obtaining this degree will come after many trials and tribulations for all of us, I can’t help but remember my parents and remind myself what a blessing it is to chase my dreams. I remind myself that, despite the hurdles I face in pursuing a legal career, at least I have the opportunity to do so. Even though sometimes I have to look far and wide to find the resources that will be beneficial to me, at least I know where to look. That is not the case for many people, especially individuals like my parents who do not speak English and always struggle with understanding the American legal system.
None of this is to say that the United States higher education system and the American legal system are without flaws. Of course, First and Onlys are entitled to express frustration with how complicated and elitist these fields can be. However, there are moments when we must recognize how fortunate we are to have the opportunity to chase our dreams. As I continue my journey, I hold onto the lessons my parents taught me, reminding myself that every challenge I face is part of a greater privilege.
Labels: achievement, education, family, inspiration