Being a first-generation college student is about more than simply being the first in your family to attend college. For me, it has meant navigating uncharted territory and embracing life’s many firsts. Yet, with these opportunities comes a unique burden—the guilt of being first-gen, of experiencing things beyond my parents' wildest dreams.
This fall, I’m interning at the UC Federal Governmental Relations office in Washington, D.C., gaining invaluable professional experience as I prepare to graduate from UC Berkeley. As I grow in this role and run the streets of our capital, I can’t help but reflect on the privileges I've gained thanks to my parents’ sacrifices.
Looking back at my first year at Berkeley, I realize how many firsts I encountered: attending therapy, navigating public transportation, flying solo through LAX, renting a car, and even trying udon noodles for the first time. Shortly after, I became the first in my family to travel abroad, visiting Spain. While each of these experiences filled me with excitement and gratitude, they also brought a deep sense of guilt. My throat would tighten, and tears would well up as I wished I could pack my parents in my suitcase to share these moments with me. They have endured hardships I may never fully understand, and while they’ve given me la luna y las estrellas, I wish I could offer them todo el universo
Now, as I work from home, earning a living with my mind, it feels surreal to realize that while I sit at my desk with the air conditioner running, my dad is lifting 25-pound pieces of drywall, and my mom is picking strawberries under the hot sun. Their constant encouragement—“échales ganas” and “tú puedes”—helps ease some of that guilt, but no matter how much I grow, the weight of it never fully fades.
To other first-generation students carrying this guilt, know that it’s okay. I see you and you are worth every sacrifice your parents have made. Even though our loved ones aren’t physically by our side, they are with us in spirit, every step of the way. A simple photo, a postcard, or even just a quick call can mean so much. Remember: little you would be proud.